Chasing Ghosts
by Fenjosi
Summary: One wouldn't know it by glancing at this lithe, unmarked Dalish elf, but something resides deep within her soul. Mithra tries her damndest to keep it hidden and never tells the whole truth - only fragments of it. Unfortunately for all parties involved, certain forces will reveal her secrets no matter how hard she tries. Maker, help them all. *Slow burn, angst, death, fluff. Enjoy.
1. Clan Lavellan

Josmael flew through the woodlands near Markham. Delighted with the chase, he growled and huffed as he closed in on the golden hart.

Danyla bugled and dashed to the left to dodge her carnivorous brother.

The massive grey wolf scrambled to get back on course, leaves scattering into the air in a full arch.

Mithra tucked a loose strand of snowy hair behind her ear and looked up from her map with a smile. Those crazy kids. Always up for a game.

A broad, grey muzzle nonchalantly nipped at the map.

While stroking the face of the gentle, ashen hart, Mithra asked, "Where should we go, Sulara? We've been nearly everywhere already."

Sulara's muzzle wiggled and danced over the coastline to the east.

Mithra focused on the area the old hart was pointing out. "Wycome?" Her eyes shifted. "Yeah, why not? We haven't been to that area in a few years." She kissed her velveteen nose and smiled. "Always guiding me. Ma serannas, Sweet One."

Groaning happily, Josmael sprinted up and flopped at Mithra's knees. While Sulara jerked her head up and snorted, he gave Mithra a huge wolfy smile, then chirped and crawled into her lap.

Mithra laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck while scratching his shoulder. "My big, sweet boy."

He groaned and rolled, then pressed a massive paw to her scarred cheek, squishing her face upward.

"You giant goofball." Her hand moved to his ribs, where she scratched until he groaned softly and kicked his hind leg.

He sneezed into the air twice and rolled back out of her hold, then flopped backward to look up at her joyously.

Mithra lifted a brow and smirked. "My point, exactly." She sighed and lifted herself from the leaves. "Come on. We should get moving."

* * *

Nearly a week later, Mithra rode northeast at a relaxed pace upon the back of Danyla. Sulara followed close behind, carrying her packs.

No sooner than they forded the hip-deep river near Wycome, the squawking of crows filled the air, and Mithra's eyes went wide.

While a war horn's cry rent the air, waves of Templars poured out of the woods.

Mithra clutched the white cylinder around her neck and drew in a slow breath. There were far too many to fight.

A fireball flashed by, just missing her face. "Mages too!? Shit!"

With a kiss and squeeze of her leg, Mithra urged Danyla to move.

While they charged through the growing clamor of the battlefield, Mithra yelled, "Josas, Sulara! Josmael!? Where are you?! We have to go!" When she raised it to her lips, wolf song rang from her necklace.

When a flaming branch crackled and fell, the hart below her abruptly stopped and reared.

Mithra crashed upon the forest floor, rolled to her feet, and drew the staff from her back. "Get out!"

As Danyla scrambled away, Mithra turned a templar's blade to the ground and jabbed a second man behind her in the face. She spun and twirled her staff to hit the first upside the head then jabbed another in the gut as he charged in. She drew a dagger from the small of her back when one bellowed and rushed her from the left. She turned and whipped the staff at his ankle, then lept upon him when he fell and pierced his belly with a vicious twist.

Wide-eyed and panting, Mithra looked up. This was the worst place in the world to be. Mages and Templars were absolutely ruthless toward each other in battle and didn't give a fuck who got caught in the middle. Besides-

Mithra blew a calming breath. She couldn't think about that now. She dashed through the leaves as fast as she could toward the treeline. If she could just reach it, she could-

White spots flashed in her vision as searing pain coursed through her left shoulder. She hit the ground screaming and dragged herself toward the trees, kicking, clawing, and growling as she scrambled out of the clearing. If she was to have any chance, she had to hide.

Roughly a dozen Dalish hunters appeared at the treeline and took aim into the battlefield.

Mithra stopped and gaped up at them. This could be very bad.

"Ghi'myelan'en!" The leader drew his bow and took aim. "Boraaaan!"

Arrows whistled over Mithra as she pressed her forehead to the cool earth. Oh, fuck.. At least they weren't shooting her.

"Come on!"

Mithra looked up to see the leader reaching for her. He was going to help? She sucked in a breath and winced as she resumed her crawl.

With his hand stretched toward Mithra, he looked back at the hunters. "Keep firing! Show them no mercy!" He looked back to her and inched his way forward. Once in reach, he snagged her hand and hauled her past the line of hunters. "It's okay. Let me look at that wound."

Panting and woozy, Mithra sat and leaned forward. She gritted her teeth and hissed when his fingers brushed the edge of the puncture.

"We'll get you to the keeper. She can help. Can you walk?"

Mithra shook her head. "I don't know. Not exactly fee-" Her eyelids fluttered, and she took a deep breath. "Feeling well." She blinked hard and narrowed her eyes. As unpleasant as it was, she had to stay awake.

He took her chin and turned her to look into his piercing blue eyes. "Everything will be alright. I'm Roshan."

She wiped the sweat from her brow and breathed, "Enaste.. Mithra." She swallowed hard and blew out her pain.

Roshan looked to the line of archers. "Emmaera! Let's get her to the keeper quickly. She's not looking well." He pulled Mithra's right arm over his neck, and they both stumbled when her trembling knees refused to support her.

Mithra mumbled, "Ir abelas," and shook her head.

"It's alright," he said as he swept her legs into his other arm and carried her toward camp. He turned back to the hunters and shouted, "Garaan, ghi'myelan'en! That should be enough!"

* * *

Deshanna's eyes widened at the white-haired woman cradled in Roshan's arms. Who was this? Where did she come from?

Emmaera rushed toward her. "Keeper Deshanna! We killed most of the felasil'en near the camp. The rest retreated as we left." She turned and gestured to the young Elvhen woman as Roshan set her on a table. "We found her at the edge of their battleground. She took an arrow to the shoulder. It's deep."

Deshanna approached the stranger. Her hand faltered near the young woman's face as her eyes drifted to the item around her neck. Ghilan'nain'es enaste. Was she-?

"Her name is Mithra," Roshan informed the keeper while running his fingers through his thick brown hair.

"Enaste," Mithra croaked and grimaced while looking up at her.

Deshanna noted the pain in her eyes and shook off her shock. She moved to examine the arrow in the girl's shoulder and pushed Mithra's long, thick braid aside. It was deep. To pull it would cause more damage and a lot of pain. "We'll have to push it the rest of the way through, then cut it, Da'len."

Trembling under the keeper's gentle touch, Mithra nodded rapidly.

Emmaera brushed her auburn curls out of her face and presented a leather-wrapped stick to her. "Bite down on this."

* * *

A few hours later, Mithra wandered down to the nearby pond and sat on an old, fallen tree and simply basked in the scent of damp soil and fertile greenery. What a day. Caught in a Mage-Templar battle, saved by the Dalish, of all people, and getting run through with an arrow to top it all off. All this bad luck had to come with some good, right?

She fondled the token around her neck. Or maybe she'd used all the luck allotted to her in life. How many times had she cheated death now?

"It is good to see you move around, Da'len. How are you feeling?"

Mithra smiled over her shoulder at Keeper Deshanna. "Much better. Yourself?"

"Always well. Thank you for asking." The keeper sat next to her, and politely began, "The hunters are curious about you, Da'len."

Mithra folded her hands in her lap. "What would they like to know, Keeper?"

"They wonder where you hail from. You are an adult and have been raised Dalish, judging by your manners and dress, but you bear no vallas'lin."

Mithra nodded. "That's a fair question. I was born in the Brecillian Forest of Ferelden. When I turned eight, my older sister's magic manifested, and she was cast out. She was all I truly had, so I went with her."

"That does explain much. Have you two always been alone in the world, Da'len? How have you survived all your years?"

This question was harder to answer without coming to tears, but Mithra choked down the lump in her throat and responded, "No.. We survived for a few years on our own. We encountered a clan on their way north at the onset of the Blight. We lived with them for a couple of years, training under their craft master, hunting with them, and so forth," her voice cracked, and she breathed deeply, resisting the heat in her eyes.

The keeper took a long pause before asking, "Did they cast you out as well, Da'len?"

"No." Mithra smiled sadly. "They wanted to bring us into the clan. But an accident claimed my sister's life, and I couldn't bring myself to stay with the clan that loved us both. I stayed for a time, hoping my heart would allow me to accept their offer, but I just.." She trailed off, unable to continue. Tears balanced in her eyes as she wrung her hands, chewed her lip, and sniffed.

Deshanna rubbed Mithra's back with a soft smile on her lips. "I think I understand, Da'len. Thank you for your indulgence. It should satisfy the curious."

Just as the elder lifted herself from the decaying log, Mithra said, "Umm, Keeper Deshanna... There's one thing I wanted to ask you."

The keeper paused and settled back on her seat.

"Despite not being with a clan, I do have companions. Three of them."

Deshanna looked curious and a little wary then.

"I'm what some call a ranger. Two harts accompany me; mother and daughter," she explained.

Deshanna's eyes widened slightly, and she gently prodded, "And the third?"

Mithra chewed her lip before answering, "A wolf."

Deshanna sat straight then, a bit of fear coming across her face like clouds drifting over the plains.

"He's very well behaved and listens to me without question," Mithra offered quickly, hoping to diffuse her growing fear.

Keeper Deshanna eyed the young woman next to her uncertainly.

Mithra could read the elder's expression like a book. "I won't call him then. I see the thought makes you uncomfortable. May I call my harts for my supplies, however? I could use something to keep my hands busy while I recover."

The keeper nodded her permission, then asked in a sort of hesitant wonder, "May I watch?"

She nodded once with a faint smile, fondled the cylindrical necklace resting against her chest, raised it to her lips, and sounded her call. A hart's bugle spread across the surrounding forest, and a faint tingle of magic hung in the air like a thin fog.

They waited and listened. Mithra's call was answered only a moment later. The girls were on their way.

* * *

Oh, there she was, the ranger he'd overheard the keeper talking about with Ellana. Excitement bubbled up in Mihren's chest as his feet carried him toward the fire. He couldn't believe this! A real ranger, here in camp. What would she be like? He bet she had fantastic stories to tell.

When Mihren plopped down on a log beside the fire and smiled, Mithra's violet eyes flashed up at him from her carving.

She looked back to her work and said, "Hey."

Mihren's brow knit. Hey? That was underwhelming. He pushed his disappointment aside. He hadn't even said anything to her yet; of course it was a weird start. He offered her a friendly grin. "How's your shoulder?"

She looked to it as her mouth twitched on one side. "A little stiff, but your keeper is a fine healer. It'll mend soon enough." She looked to him again and dropped her hands in her lap. "Can I help with something?"

He rubbed his fingertips together. "I'm just curious. The keeper says you're ghi'falon. Is it true?"

A corner of Mithra's mouth lifted. "Yeah, I am."

He drew in a breath, and his face lit up as he jumped to his feet. "That is so cool! What beasts can you summon? Is there a time limit? What do you ask them to do? How'd you get that big scar on your cheek? Have you ever met-"

"Mihren!"

Uh oh. The keeper. He knew that tone.

Deshanna strolled toward them. "It's impolite to ask so many questions at once, Da'len."

Mihren sighed and looked to the fire. "Ir abelas, Keeper. I'm only-"

"Excited," Mithra finished for him and gestured to a nearby pine. She looked to Keeper Deshanna. "It's alright." When a crow landed on her shoulder, she took the pinecone it carried. "Ma serannas, falon."

Mihren gaped at the bird and asked, "Is that crow your ghi'vas?"

The glare Mithra gave him sent chills down his spine, and his mouth fell open slightly. What did he say?

She spat, "Ghi'vas... Is that what you call it?" She gestured to the bird on her shoulder and growled, "No, this is not my slave, and neither is my ghi'saota, if you must have a word for it."

Mihren scratched his head. "I-I meant no disrespect. Ir abelas. I thought-"

Mithra sighed, and her voice softened while she pried the cone open. "It's okay... I know how it seems, but he has his own will, as does this crow. Josmael is my closest companion. He's followed me since he was a pup."

"A pup?" He tugged at the keeper's sleeve. "A wolf?" His face sagged when he looked to his keeper's wisened, fearful face. She wasn't going to let him enter the camp, was she?

"Please, Keeper," he begged. "Let me meet him? Hahren Dhearas says The Emerald Knights used to keep wolves. He's her ghi'saota, besides. He's a creature of legend."

"I know the legends, Da'len." Deshanna heaved a sigh. "I must speak with the clan before a decision can be made."

* * *

The next morning, Mithra shifted from foot to foot while listening to the keeper speak to the clan about her wolf companion. When the clan nodded their agreement to meet the beast, she stepped forward. "Josmael is-" Mithra shook her hands at her sides and sighed. Could they not stare?

Mithra cleared her throat and squeezed one hand in the other. "Josmael is very protective, but he can be as gentle as a halla if treated with respect. Please keep your weapons out of your hands. If he feels like one of us is threatened, he will respond in kind. I don't want anyone to get hurt, least of all him."

The crowd shifted and exchanged glances, but nodded their agreement once more.

Mithra fondled the white cylinder that hung from her neck. "Okay... I'm going to summon him." She turned and raised the token to her lips, then put out a powerful, ringing howl.

* * *

Josmael's ears shot up as his head rose from the leafy forest floor. She was calling him? He jumped to his feet and spun in tight circles. He had missed her so much!

The wolf raced toward her signal, the forest flying around him as he answered, "On my way!" His legs felt light as he dashed through the brush and swung around trees.

A second call communicated, "Approach carefully. We have nervous company, but they're friendly."

Josmael replied, "Right! I'll try not to "frighten" anyone."

He continued at his blazing pace for a minute more before easing down to a lope, then to a cautious walk. When he peeked around the next tree, he spied Mithra and smiled his wolfy grin; tongue lolling out the side of his maw.

She turned to the crowd and said, "He's here. Please remain calm," and beckoned to him with an outstretched hand.

Josmael's tail wagged rapidly as he bounded up to her and pressed his shoulder into her chest. He whined while she hugged him and buried her face in the side of his neck. The great wolf twisted his head around and licked the side of her face. She was okay, so everything was alright now.

"I'm sorry I didn't return your howls, Isa'ma'sal."

As soon as she lifted her head, he lapped at her nose.

She ruffled his cheeks and kissed his nose back.

Josmael's gaze shifted to the clan of Dalish elves watching them. This was awkward. The Dalish typically ran them off when they saw them together. This clan seemed to accept his presence. Why?

A baby-faced boy with wavy golden hair and big doe eyes approached cautiously.

"Mihren!" someone hissed.

Mithra looked at them. "It's okay. He won't hurt anyone."

Josmael sniffed at Mihren's nervous fingers when he drew close enough.

"I understand a ranger's creatures are sentient. Is that right?" Mihren jumped when Josmael huffed at him.

"Most creatures are sentient. But yeah, he's more intelligent than some people."

Mihren laughed. "That's not saying much."

Mithra smirked. "You have examples in mind?" She patted and stroked Josmael's neck. "You can touch him. He loves having his ears scratched."

Mihren blew out his nerves and slowly reached toward the wolf. Just as he was about to make contact with his head, Josmael chirped, and Mihren jerked his hand back.

The wolf smirked up at him.

"Oh, he's funny." The boy scratched the top of his head and worked his way toward an ear.

Josmael's eyes closed. That was the spot.

* * *

The next evening, a party raged, celebrating the safe return of a successful hunting party. Food was passed around generously while the majority of the harvest was hung on racks near various fires for drying.

Mithra leaned against Josmael with a couple of hunters sitting around a fire with her. Mihren's large, doe eyes drifted to Josmael often, and Mithra smiled whenever he would toss Josmael a scrap of meat.

Nerian, a hunter with black curls and eyes of polished malachite, looked to Mithra. "You're not Dalish?"

Mithra drew in a slow breath. Here we go. "No."

"Ah." Nerian looked to the fire. "The keeper speaks well of you and your wolf. Perhaps you could be."

"Lay off, Nerian," Emmaera warned, then looked to Mithra. "The keeper's considering asking if you'd like to stay."

Mithra arched a brow. "Why?"

She shrugged. "She didn't say."

Mihren asked, "Would you?"

Mithra looked into the flames. "You're all amazing people, and I really appreciate your hospitality, but I can't."

"Why not?" Roshan asked from across the way.

She smiled sadly and fiddled with her necklace. "I made a promise, and I really need to keep it."


	2. Set Sail for Haven

A runner from another clan appeared the next morning. The word was, a "Conclave" would bring the Mage-Templar War to an end, if only temporarily. Apparently, many clans would be sending scouts to bring news to their people quickly.

This information was a breath of fresh air. Most of the fighting was taking place in the countryside, putting all Dalish in immediate danger. Many clans had suffered for their war. Hunters had been slain, women were raped, and children kidnapped. It was a harrowing topic. Even Clan Lavellan had lost their fair share to both parties.

The happy yet weary keeper stood before the kneeling assembly. "This Conclave is to be held in three weeks. It will take place in an ancient temple in Ferelden. It is said to be in the Frostback Mountains, near a small town known as Haven."

The keeper paused to let the words sink in, then announced, "I ask for a volunteer to observe these talks. Find out if peace will be restored, or if we should move deeper into the forest to avoid more of their foolish war."

Mithra stood along with Roshan and a few others. She quickly declared, "I would go on behalf of your clan, Keeper Deshanna."

Open surprise flowed through the camp, buzzing with whispers.

"Da'len, you move me, but you are not fully healed," Deshanna rebuffed sorrowfully.

"I have no family to speak of, Keeper. All of your hunters do. I owe you and yours a debt I cannot repay any other way. I can gain passage there and back easily. I also know the temple, town, and surrounding wilderness of that area," the ranger assured.

The whole clan seemed to hold their breath.

"Da'len-"

"Please, Keeper Deshanna. I don't wish to see a son or daughter of Lavellan go to an unfamiliar land amid this war. I would gladly go in the stead of one of yours." Mithra silently prayed she would accept the offer, begging the gods for this chance.

Time seemed to stand still while the muted clan waited for the keeper to speak. She finally conceded, "Clan Lavellan gives its gratitude, Da'len. Be swift in your journey, and return to us safely."

With a relieved sigh and a gracious bow, Mithra said, "Ma nuvenin, Keeper. Ma serranas."

* * *

A week's journey south, Mithra strolled down a cobblestone street and admired the lovely, quaint, stone cottages that lined the main road of Hercinia.

When she came to the crest of a hill, the docks came into view. A few ships lay in the harbor, preparing to set sail.

Mithra spotted a mercenary company when she reached the docks, at last. Not that they were easy to miss.

The familiar group was huddled on a pier, gambling over an arm-wrestling match as she approached. They shouted and pushed each other teasingly, arguing over who was sure to win the pot. Money was tossed, beer spilled, and for some odd reason, cards flew into the air.

She watched with a bemused grin. These vashoth were crazy folk, but she honestly enjoyed their crazy. Over the commotion, she called, "Nazenli Adaar!"

A great, horned woman with black hair and dark grey eyes turned to face her with a snarl.

Mithra looked up at her with a smug grin. "Nice to see you again."

Now recognizing the elf, the vashoth's expression turned to delight, and the woman spread her arms in exaggerated welcome. "Fenjosi! Holy shit! How have you been? I haven't seen you since-"

"Nevarra, yes," Mithra finished for her with an honest smile.

"Drink?" the tall, horned woman asked while nodding toward the tavern.

The ranger shrugged with a soft smile. "Sure." As they turned, she asked, "Where's your company headed this time?"

Nazenli smirked. "The land of dog shit and drizzle."

"Ferelden? What's the job?"

Adaar laughed softly and opened the tavern door. "You guessed it. We're headed to some Conclave thing. Hired by a Marcher lord to look big and scary, you know."

Mithra's face lit with surprise before they settled at a table by the door. "Well, that's fortunate. I came here to book passage for the same reason."

Nazenli waved two fingers at the bar while declaring, "Always happy to have you along. We could use an extra bow if you're looking to trade a favor for a favor."

Mithra tipped her head with a slight shrug. "The easiest way to do things, I'd say."

"You still have that giant puppy?"

The ranger leaned back and crossed her arms. "You know it. Can we smuggle him aboard?"

Adaar winked. "As good as done."

As soon as their ales arrived, the chatting, laughing, and drinking began in earnest.

Mithra filled her in on the most recent and exciting happenings in her life. Her time in Rivain, nearly dying in the Eastern Free Marches, and the mission she was on currently.

Adaar mostly told stories of jobs gone wrong over the last few years. Every time the alternate name spilled from her mouth, a few uneasy eyes drifted toward her, and she couldn't hide her satisfied grin.

After a bit more laughter, the elf asked, "Oh, hey..you feeling artistic?"

The vashoth's smile grew softer. "Always.."

Mithra brought out a coin purse and a few scraps of leather with scenes of her recent adventures drawn upon them.

"Nice." Adaar scooped up the drawings and studied them while starting for the stairs. "Let's get to work. Come on."

* * *

"What do you mean, "the ship isn't ready"? I paid you good coin to have everything in order, you horned savage!" the tart of a man squealed as Mithra shut the tavern door behind her.

The moment she heard the slur roll of his tongue, her gaze sharpened.

With a venomous glare, the male vashoth snapped, "You paid me to protect you, not get all your shit together. The cargo will be loaded when it's loaded."

The noble huffed and postured up to him. "And just what am I supposed to do in the meantime?"

"How about just shutting your mouth and waiting?"

They carried on for several minutes, barking, growling, and huffing back and forth.

Adaar emerged from the tavern a moment later. When she noticed the two fighting, a long sigh escaped her. Sarcastically, she said, "Nothing like the sweet song of whiney nobles in the morning.."

"You can have it. It's moments like these that remind me why I don't become a full member of your company." Mithra sneered at the puffed-up prick when a few more slurs rolled out of his mouth.

"Yeah.." Adaar spotted one of the humans in her company. "Gareth!" She nodded toward the fussy noble.

The redhead sagged and rolled his head, knowing she needed him to take over before the pissed off vashoth threw their patron into the sea.

"Poor guy," Mithra mused while fondling her whistle.

Nazenli noticed a moment later, and a wide smirk spread across her face. Innocently, she asked, "You have a suggestion?"

The ranger flashed her a wicked grin and, without delay, asked the gulls to do her a favor.

The birds took flight and circled the noble, well above his head and out of his notice.

"Oh, yes, please.." Adaar pleaded quietly as the elf beside her chuckled.

Gareth had enough and stormed away from the noble, going back to loading cargo.

"Bombs away," the ranger requested with the tool about her neck.

The noble cried out in utter disgust, now covered in bird droppings. Everyone saw it happen, but only Mithra and Adaar were aware of exactly how it had happened. The dock roared with laughter as the noble cursed and stomped off, nearly in tears.

The vashoth he had been arguing with called with a delighted grin, "Find something to do while you wait?!"

"Maybe now we can get some work done," the ranger chirped, pleased with herself.

Adaar smirked down at the elf. "You are so good for morale. You know that?"

* * *

Their second day at sea, she spied two mercs, the vashoth from the day before and the rather handsome redhead known as Gareth. They sat in deep concentration with a rough bit of leather between them with small game pieces arranged upon it.

When she kneeled beside the pair wordlessly, they glanced at her but didn't shoo her away. So, she squatted there and tried to learn their game.

Squares drawn upon the leather offered places for the pieces. When one was to be placed where an enemy piece stood, they were swapped, and the "dead" one was removed. Each piece had a specific direction it could travel, and one could only move in one particular 2:1 pattern.

One of them announced, "Check," and his opponent was forced to move a particular piece.

A few turns later, the vashoth announced, "Checkmate."

His human opponent grumbled, "One day, Asul...one day."

The vashoth laughed and glanced at Mithra. "Play a game?"

She chewed her lip shyly and dropped her gaze. "I've never played."

"Well, now's as good a time as any to learn. Come on," the horned man invited and arranged the pieces in their starting positions.

With a warm smile, she took a seat opposite him.

Asul taught her everything about the game, the name of each piece, the movements, and the goals. He even coached her through her first two games with him. She was getting the hang of it; learning to look ahead three or more moves, to lure her opponent into defeat, and even how to guard the king piece effectively.

"What do they call this game?" Mithra asked, finally realizing she didn't yet know.

"Chess," he answered with a grin. "You know..it's possible to play this anywhere with no board or pieces?"

The elf looked puzzled. "How can that be?"

He chuckled and named each square, "E3, D1.." and so forth.

"Ahh... Could be handy on a long trip." She grinned.

"Tell me about it. Some of these jobs get downright dull. If it weren't for a good game, I'd sleep through most of them."

Determined to get as good as possible, she spent the next week playing at every chance and memorizing the names of each square and the piece placement.

* * *

They finally arrived at a small dock near Jader, just north of the Frostback Mountains.

Mithra breathed in the mingling scent of land, sea, and forest with a potent stretch, overjoyed to be ashore again.

"I know, right? Boat rides are hell when they last more than a day," Gareth agreed warmly.

"Let's get to work, boys!" Adaar called from the deck. "We have a long way to go and a lot of shit to unload!"

They brought the livestock out first, leading them to a small barn that served for stables. Meanwhile, Mithra just let Sulara and Danyla off the ship and set them loose.

Gareth gave her a puzzled look. "You aren't going to tie them up? What if they run off?"

Adaar laughed and answered for her, "Oh, don't worry, they won't." She handed him a cask of ale to be loaded on a cart bound for Denerim.

He gave Mithra a teasing smile. "An elf thing?"

"Not exactly," she answered with a grin of her own.

Shouts of alarm rang from the ship as Josmael charged through the doors of the cargo bay. The moment his paws met grass, he began rolling, groaning, and pulling his body along the ground in unmasked joy.

"Maker!" Gareth nearly dropped his cask.

"Stand down!" Adaar commanded sternly.

Gareth's eyes seemed like they were about to pop out of his head. "That thing sailed here with us?!"

Asul laughed. "He's good. Don't worry your pretty little head."

The ranger looked to him then. "You knew about Josmael?"

With a wide grin, he said, "Yeah, I helped get him on board. I hung out with him a bit in the bay too. Nice guy."

She laughed, relieved to have him on their side.

Josmael poked his nose into Danyla's side and crouched down playfully with a soft woof. She complied by rearing and pawing at him before running away and bucking playfully.

Their game was on. The hart and wolf chased each other along the coast and through the woods, but never out of sight. Much of the crew balked, others laughed, and Mithra was just glad to watch them play.

Nazenli laughed nearby. "Those are some kids you have, Fenjosi."

She couldn't help but smile. "Yeah..never a dull moment."

Mithra lifted her whistle, its song starting in wolf and ending in the distinct bugle of a hart. Both came prancing up from beyond the tree line and stopped before her.

She rubbed and scratched their faces affectionately. "Crazy kids."

Josmael sneezed at her, and Danyla snorted, widening Mithra's smile further.

They finally finished unloading all the cargo and arranged them securely on the appropriate wagons. Money changed hands, and the merchants started their journeys, all pleased with the service rendered. It wasn't smuggling exactly, every one of the goods was legal, but Adaar knew where to find bargains all over the north.


	3. The Conclave

Trevelyan waved his arms in excessive frustration. "Why have we stopped?"

Without so much as a glance in his direction, Gareth flatly explained, "It's lunchtime, and the horses could use a rest."

The noble flitted to and fro, complaining about how long the trip was taking while the mercenaries just sat, gazing into the sky. Three days ashore, and this is what they had to put up with.

The mercs wished with all they had that he'd just shut up and return to his carriage, or get eaten by something. They were okay with either already.

Mithra was resting against Josmael, tweaking the sylvanwood bow she had nearly finished, completely ignoring the ranting prick near the fire.

When Trevelyan stabbed a finger at Mithra and the word "knife ear" left the man's lips, the ranger was splayed on the rocky ground.

The wolf's piercing glare burned into the man. His face was at full snarl, teeth in plain sight for him to see. _ "Keep talking, Fuckface. See where it leads you." _

The noble shrank away and went quiet at long last.

Mithra got to her feet and placed a hand on each of her wolf's shoulders. With agitated fur jutting between her fingers, she crooned, "Relax, Isa'ma'sal." Slowly, she turned an icy glare on the noble. "This dahn'direlan is no threat to me."

The noble puffed himself up, trying to save face. "You'll keep your beast in hand, or I'll have his head for my trophy room, Elf!"

With a poisonous yet silky tone, Mithra said, "Lasas adahl sunar masa, Felasil. Do you really think a tiny thing like me could keep him from ripping your head off if he really wanted to?"

Fear ran through Trevelyan in a cold wave before he sputtered and stomped away.

As soon as she murmured, "Sulahn," Josmael snarled and belted a thunderous howl at the prick's back.

The noble took off, screaming while sprinting for the safety of his carriage.

The company watched him go with broad grins on every face. When all turned to the woman and her wolf, Adaar cracked up. "What did you say to him?!"

Mithra snorted with amusement. "I told him to stick a tree up his ass."

The whole company laughed then and applauded Josmael's disposal of their pest. Now that they saw some value in his presence, he was alright in their book.

* * *

They were a day away from Haven now, their mounts walking sleepily along the road. Josmael scouted ahead for them, watching for bandits and warfare. Not much to be found, luckily, but it became boring on the broad mountain path fast.

"Pawn to C4," Mithra suddenly called.

Asul perked up and grinned. "Pawn to G6."

Some of the company smiled and watched their match in their minds. Others rolled their eyes and sang songs quietly to themselves. They knew better than to heckle the vashoth, so they simply either enjoyed or ignored their chatter.

Within an hour, Mithra had taken several pieces, including both of his mages and one of his towers.

"Check," he called when he had cornered her with his knight.

She grinned and calculated for a minute, imagining their board. "Tower to F4," the ranger countered, taking his knight down.

"Tower to B7."

Mithra's turn. She took her time, thinking of all the angles. "Queen to C6. Check."

He thought for a few seconds. "Ha! That's mate! Well played."

The company was openly surprised. Asul never lost to any of them, and they hadn't expected him to be a graceful loser.

When he noticed their gaping expressions, he snorted, "Beginner's luck," with a shrug. He had taught her well.

* * *

Josmael's howl shattered the quiet after half an hour.

"Skirmish!" Mithra announced and readied her older ironbark bow.

The company drew steel and prepared to face trouble. The fighting grew louder as they crested an incline in the road. Josmael came up beside the company quickly while they looked down at the carnage.

"Mages and templars, of course," Mithra grumbled.

The company gathered, glad to have something to actually do. This was the sort of thing they were getting paid for, after all.

On Adaar's signal, the melee fighters charged in on horseback while Mithra, Gareth, and one other human provided cover fire. She couldn't help but count under her breath as she launched arrows into the mass of idiots.

Mistaking it for a challenge, Gareth smirked. She wanted to compete? He was game.

"7..8...9.." she counted while her arrows soared and slipped into flesh when an opening could be found. She'd even managed to sink a few into some skulls, fletching protruding from the "T" of those creepy helmets templars loved so much.

After the melee, the party rested while the two that were injured got patched up. Just some stitches and elfroot, really.

Gareth approached Mithra while she stitched Asul's final wound. "Sixteen," he announced with a grin.

She looked up at him, mildly puzzled. "Sixteen what?"

"Targets killed, of course! Weren't we keeping score?"

The ranger looked to her work absently, eyes drifting back in time. "Counting is an old habit; I didn't intend to make sport of it.."

The redhead looked disappointed.

She gently coated Asul's stitches with a salve and mumbled, "Twenty three."

Gareth laughed. "Damn, Wolfgirl! Is there anything you don't do well?"

With a damp bit of brown cloth, she wiped the blood from her hands, lost in thought over the question. As she started back toward Sulara, Danyla, and Josmael, she whispered, "Yeah... Die."

Gareth wasn't sure what to make of her response, but his face reflected sorrow. He'd grown to admire the exotic woman and had often flirted with her, but she kept her distance and deflected him at every turn. What was up with her?

He stood there awkwardly for a moment, then turned to mount up when Adaar gave the order. He remained quiet for the rest of the journey.

* * *

They were camped just downhill from the temple now. The company kept busy with plans to keep their patron safe in the event of shit hitting the fan. Adaar and Asul pointed out the emergency exits on a map of the temple that Gareth had drawn up after scouting the place.

"Alright, Fenjosi, get some rest. You move into position at first light," Nazenli ordered with a soft grin.

"Be safe in there, Adaar," the elf suggested with a firm pat on her shoulder.

"You too, Friend," she replied as she turned to stroll away.

Mithra slipped beyond the treeline with Josmael, Sulara, and Danyla. She packed most of her belongings in the bags slung over the harts' backs. Before settling down on her bed of furs, she rubbed Sulara's face slowly and rested her forehead against hers for a moment.

When she finally snuggled into Josmael's shoulder to sleep, she covered herself with a Great Bear hide and gently scratched his neck until she passed out.

* * *

As dawn approached, Adaar woke Mithra by gently shaking her shoulder. "Hey.."

The ranger grumbled as her eyes cracked open.

"Almost time to move, Fenjosi. You set?"

She yawned and stretched while sitting up. "Yeah, just need to pack up and grab my gear."

After a groggy moment, she got up and packed her bedding in the empty bags on Danyla, and fished a couple of bits of scrap wood from another.

Today was going to be miserably dull.

The ranger changed into the spare merc uniform Adaar had passed to her the night before. "So people know you're with us and not just some random wild elf there to hunt them all down," she had joked while presenting it.

After the ranger packed up her usual gear, she gave the golden hart a pat. She noticed a loose strap, tightened it, and checked her body harness to make sure the other straps were secure.

She turned to face them all when she was finished. "Alright..I'll be just inside, but I don't know how long this will take." She focused on Josmael. "Behave yourselves and hide in the woods farther down the mountain. I don't want to come out of there to find you being hunted. I'll call when it's safe to approach." She bit her lip, uneasy about leaving them alone with so many people here. "You're all I have. Please, be safe."

Josmael whined and poked her shoulder with his nose. _ "You too, sis."_

* * *

After about three miserable hours, and a lot of whittling, the place was nearly full to bursting. The Divine was scheduled to speak within the hour, and Mithra was on high alert, watching for any potential threats to Adaar's patron.

Nobody seemed to notice Trevelyan or even know who he was. She watched the silly little man flit about, rubbing elbows with supposedly important people and being ignored entirely or walked away from.

The ranger couldn't help but laugh to herself. They'd gotten paid to be bored out of their minds... Asul would love that. She signaled to Adaar what she saw.

The vashoth woman just smiled and shook her head. _ "Nobles...gotta love em," _ her expression seemed to say.

Mithra sat back down to continue her carving when she heard something down the corridor to her right. She listened hard, and a faint plea reached her ears. "Someone! Help me!"

Mithra signaled to Adaar that she was going to check something out and left.

After hopping from beam to beam along the ceiling, she finally dropped down where no one would witness her descent.

Upon hearing the cry again, Mithra sprinted for the door at the end of the passageway.

When she touched the door to force it open, everything went white.

She found herself strewn upon the ground. Her whole body ached, but she forced herself up slowly. Her head swam, and she bent over, bracing herself with her hands on her knees.

Was she...outside...? Her brow furrowed with confusion. No.. she didn't see the sun... Why did the air seem...green?

Mithra staggered a few steps to her left and followed the rocky path while rubbing her temples. What was she just thinking about..?

Behind her, several voices rose in a battle cry, and she turned to see templars charging at her. Her eyes widened in terror, and her legs propelled her into a dead sprint.

She came to a wall, or perhaps a cliff; she couldn't tell and didn't care. She just had to get out of their reach. The ranger climbed as fast as she dared, glancing down to see her pursuers rising close behind her.

She looked up to spy a woman before a green...shimmering...something...

Whatever! She was getting out of here. Instinct resumed its hold on her as she climbed up, up, UP.

She reached for the woman's outstretched hand. The moment they touched, blinding white light washed through her mind once more.


	4. The Breach

The guards saluted as he approached; fists over their hearts and heads bowed in respect. One opened the door before him, and he turned sideways, trying not to knock the unconscious prisoner's head on the doorframe as they went through.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, she breathed deep and smiled sweetly. "Isa'ma'sal," she breezed and affectionately nuzzled the thick, fur lining of his coat.

Cullen stopped suddenly; surprise and embarrassment gripped him while his face and ears ignited with a blush. Had she mistaken him for her lover?

A tiny spark of jealousy flickered when he looked to the little elvhen prisoner in his arms. Her long, silvery braid was all but undone, falling messily over her face, chest, and abdomen. Golden skin, smudged with dirt and ash, glowed softly beneath the mess. Despite her grubby state, she appeared soft and sweet while she dozed.

How could such a tiny thing cause so much death and destruction? Cullen shook the thought from his head and steeled himself before continuing his march down the dark corridor.

Her breathing grew rapid then, panting as if she were afraid or surprised. Her brow knit as she mumbled, "The grey..."

Her breathy whisper puzzled him, but he pressed on.

They were halfway down the corridor when she screamed, "Josmael!"

He couldn't tell if it was a plea for help or a warning to someone, but he jumped just the same.

She rolled suddenly, almost falling from his grasp completely.

He quickly caught her and kneeled to drape her legs over his knee, preparing to lift her once more.

"Too many...eyes.." Her head lolled on his forearm, and she tried to shift again, weak in his hold.

Cullen's resolve shattered. Without consideration, his thumb gently smoothed the hair from her face. She was..pretty under all that dirt and grime. He looked over the soft line of her jaw, slope of her forehead, and fullness of her lips. The large scar on the left side of her face rounded as she sneered at something in her dream.

His brow knit with gentle sympathy. What had happened to their prisoner? He sat there a moment longer, trying to make sense of her rambling, but to no avail.

His strong arms scooped her back up and held her firmly to his chest. When he arrived, his boot knocked on the door, and it opened almost immediately.

"Commander Cullen, you have her, sir?"

His expression turned to stone, and with authority, declared, "Yes. Leliana's agents are to witness the study of her hand. Have someone clean her up. I'll be heading back to the front lines as soon as I'm done here. Gather another squad and have them meet me at the gates."

Two soldiers saluted and shouted, "Sir!"

While the commander moved her into a cell and gently settled her on a bedroll, they disappeared the way he had just come.

He spied a leather cord tucked into her armor as if hidden. He pulled it slowly, revealing the token about her neck.

Cullen studied it for a second, noticing only that it was a hollow cylinder. Was it something to signal allies? Reinforcements? His eyes hardened with suspicion when he looked to her again.

He removed the piece from her neck and slipped it into his pocket. Not on his watch.

* * *

The door opened again, not an hour later.

An elvhen man accompanied by two agents approached the sleeping prisoner.

One of the agents asked, "Will you need anything?"

The elf didn't look at him; eyes fixed on the green glow of her hand. When it sparked violently, she rolled and mumbled in her coma. "Perhaps some elfroot for the prisoner," he said before entering her dark cage.

He sat beside her, took her hand in his, and turned it over. The green glow seemed to soften as he caressed the spot marring her hand.

Sometime later, a woman with short, dark hair and a thick Nevarran accent entered the dungeon in a flurry. "Any progress, Solas?"

In a matter of fact tone, he answered, "It spreads with each pulse, and it's slowly killing her. The magic from the Breach feels the same as this mark. They must be connected somehow."

"So she caused this," the seeker concluded while sneering at the ranger's sleeping form.

"It's possible. It's also possible that your prisoner got caught in the middle of something we are unaware of. It's best not to jump to conclusions with so little evidence."

"Are you defending her, Apostate?!" she accused.

"Why would I do that, Seeker? I don't know this woman. I'm simply studying this strange mark on her hand."

They stared at each other for a time; hers a hard glare, his a mask of calm indifference.

Another boom in the distance sent sparks flying from the prisoner's hand. She cursed in elvish and rolled in pain, repeating the same gibberish as before.

He checked her pulse and felt the mark's magic again. "She's likely to wake soon. I'd like to study one of the smaller rifts nearby. Maybe I can discern a way to close them. We must keep her alive. I suspect her hand is the key to solving the problem." He left then; headed out to do some field research.

"Shackle her. Then, bring her into the interrogation chamber," the Nevarran woman ordered a nearby agent.

With a salute, she jumped to obey. "Yes, Lady Cassandra!"

* * *

Mithra woke slowly, head adrift in a sea of pain and confusion. When Mithra's eyes cracked open, she groaned and looked to her hand. It felt like it was asleep, but she could move it, though not easily. Oh, fuck.. Shackles. This couldn't be good.

She spied the glow of something green in her palm and opened it to investigate. It sparked abruptly, sending uncomfortable shockwaves up her arm. The ranger grimaced and let out a gasp while a lovely blend of pain and surprise coursed through her.

The door in front of her flew open and hit the wall with a loud bang. With her headache agitated, her face twisted in pain, and she looked down. She had thought the ache was as bad as they came. It seems she was mistaken.

The four soldiers surrounding her sheathed their blades while Cassandra stalked toward her, followed closely by a young, redheaded woman.

Cassandra circled her like a shark, then leaned in from behind. "Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now." She backed up and completed her course. "The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead. Except for you," she informed with an accusing finger aimed at Mithra.

The pounding in the ranger's skull grew worse, and she mused that she shouldn't let Josmael see her with that attitude.

The woman snatched her shackles and lifted her hand to her face. "Explain this," she demanded and threw the elf's bound hands to the floor.

In an attempt to think, Mithra pushed against the dull throb in her head. "I-I-I...can't..." She scowled at herself, unable to recall what might have gotten her arrested. She remembered being bored, sitting in the rafters of the temple...carving a bit of wood.. What else?

Dissatisfied with the feeble answer, Cassandra snarled, "What do you mean, "you can't"..?"

The ranger hoped the woman would shut up and let her think. She squinted as if it would aid her memory. It certainly seemed to help her headache. "I don't know what that is...or how it got there."

With her patience dissolved, Cassandra lunged in her face and grabbed her by the shirt. "You're lying!"

The redhead grabbed the woman and pushed her toward the door. "We need her, Cassandra." She turned to Mithra then. "Do you remember what happened? How this began?"

The prisoner squinted harder. "I remember running... something was chasing me, and then...a woman?"

The redhead's light blue eyes widened slightly. "A woman?"

Pained and exhausted, Mithra tried to break through the amnesia. "She..reached out to me..but then..." The exasperation grew within the elf, irritated that she couldn't remember anything that could get her off this hook.

Cassandra approached the redhead. "Go to the forward camp, Leliana. I will take her to the rift."

Scornfully, Mithra wondered why she was going to take her to that camp. Execution time, perhaps? The next thing she knew, the seeker tied a rope around her wrists and unlocked the metal shackles. It was now that she felt something was horribly wrong. "What has happened?"

Cassandra faltered a second, "It..will be easier to show you."

They walked through the dungeon and upstairs. Mithra's annoyance only grew. Why was she not at all surprised to find that Chantries had dungeons?

When they reached the large doors, two soldiers threw them open, and blinding, greenish light flooded the ranger's vision.

Her eyes squeezed shut while she raised her bound hands to block it. To her discomfort, her best attempt did little good. She groaned again and figured her face would be locked in squint-mode for life at this rate. Still, she tried to see what the trouble was. When she found the gaping, green hole in the sky, she understood the woman's demand for answers.

Cassandra explained, "We call it "the Breach." It's a massive rift into the world of demons that grows larger with each passing hour. It's not the only such rift..just the largest. All were caused by the explosion at the Conclave. Unless we act, the Breach may grow until it swallows the world."

That was just great. The world had mages, templars, and now demons to contend with - Oh my! Mithra's sneer darkened somewhat and she glared at her marred hand. And thanks to this thing, this woman thought all this shit was her doing. Something suddenly occurred to her, and her eyes danced worriedly. Was the fault hers?

The Breach made a strange sound; its pitch lowered rapidly, then a low, thunderous BOOM rent the air.

As her mark showered sparks, she bit down hard on herself, trying to endure the ordeal quietly. The futility became painfully apparent as she fell to her knees and cried out while clutching her wrist.

"Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads, and it is killing you. It may be the key to stopping this, but there isn't much time."

Mithra smirked, though her suffering warped it into a grimace. "Well, isn't that just the ray of sunshine I needed?! My day was really starting to look up when I was allowed outside, too." She hissed and flexed her hand. Ready to get this shit sorted and go on her way, she bluntly asked, "So, what needs to be done?"

The seeker's face betrayed her surprise. "Then..?"

"Look, I came here for news about your Mage-Templar bullshit. The Conclave deal obviously failed, and I imagine everyone will be blaming mages for...that," Mithra said while nodding toward the Breach. "Which means the fighting will only get worse. The sooner it's dealt with, the better."

Cassandra looked increasingly amazed, but couldn't seem to find the words.

Mithra raised her eyebrows at the woman, waiting for her to speak. Sarcastically, she offered, "What? Shocked that an elf can see where this shit-show is headed?"

"N-no... I'm surprised you're so eager to help solve the problem. You're our prisoner.."

The ranger just rolled her eyes and struggled to her feet. "I'm affected by this shit just as much as anyone else. If not more now, thanks to this damned thing." She raised her hand and flexed it. "Many are sick and tired of the fighting. It needs to end. Now."

While Cassandra continued to explain the situation, Mithra wondered if Josmael and the girls were alright. They had been off in the wilderness surrounding this area. Maybe it didn't reach them. But what about Nazenli and Asul? They were inside the temple when things blew to shit.

She pushed her feelings aside and picked up her pace. If the Mage-Templar War grew worse, Clan Lavellan would be in deep shit. Everyone would be, herself included.

Suddenly, Mithra stopped dead in her tracks, terror aglow in her eyes while a dense crowd stared directly at her.

"There will be a trial. I can promise no more." Cassandra scowled at her. "What's wrong?"

She squeaked, "Crowds...I can't do crowds. Especially when they're all staring at me."

The seeker's face hardened that much more. "Get moving."

But she couldn't. Fear froze her legs stiff, and she began to tremble while hundreds of eyes bore into her with suspicion and disdain.

The seeker's voice softened while Mithra shivered violently in her hold. "You are truly frightened, aren't you?" She quickly looked around for a solution and grabbed a nearby cloak. After she shrouded the elf in its heavy fabric, she asked, "Better?"

The ranger nodded rapidly, gripped the fabric, and pulled it around her tightly, trying to hide from the people flooding the area. A moment later, she took tentative steps through the gates of the small, mountain town.

Annoyed with the meek snail's pace they were reduced to, Cassandra tightened her grip on the woman's arm and hurried her along once more.

* * *

After trekking uphill amidst burning debris, falling Fade-rocks, and hosts of demons, they came upon an elvhen mage and a dwarf with a crossbow near a small rift.

With a dagger in each hand, the ranger mercilessly sliced her way through the hoard of demons.

The mage was rather impressive, freezing and electrocuting his aggressors efficiently with clean, level-headed control.

Meanwhile, the dwarf cranked and shot rapidly, intimately familiar with the mechanics of his crossbow.

Without much in the way of warning, the mage grabbed her left arm. "Quickly! Before more come through!" He shoved her hand toward the rift, and the mark seemed to know just what to do. They connected, and the rift's core stretched until it snapped closed.

"What did you do?"

"I did nothing." He gestured to her. "The credit is yours."

Mithra held up her hand and gazed into the glowing mark. "You mean, this.."

"Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand." The mage straightened his posture and folded his arms behind his back. "I theorized that the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach's wake. And it seems I was correct."

Cassandra revealed, "Meaning it could also close the Breach itself."

"Possibly." He looked to the ranger once more. "It seems you hold the key to our salvation."

"Good to know! Here I thought we'd be ass-deep in demons forever." Varric smiled and sauntered forward. "Varric Tethras. Rouge, story-teller, and, occasionally, unwelcome tag-along." He winked at the seeker. "Bianca and I will be great company in the valley."

Cassandra sneered at him. "Absolutely not! Your help is appreciated, Varric, but-"

"Have you been in the valley lately, Seeker? Your soldiers aren't in control anymore. You need me."

Cassandra made a disgusted noise and turned away.

The mage gestured to himself. "My name is Solas if there are to be introductions. I am pleased to see you still live."

Varric translated, "He means, "I kept that mark from killing you while you slept."

"Thank you.." Mithra hissed at a sudden, tingling pain in her hand. "It's very nice to meet you both. Now let's hurry. This thing is really getting on my nerves. We can discuss the situation on the way."

The others exchanged a quick look and followed, agreeing that time was of the essence.

It soon became apparent that Solas knew more than most about the whole mess. Thus, Mithra asked him immediately essential questions as they went.

The Breach flared once more, and Mithra hissed while shaking out her hand. She just needed to hang in there a bit longer, and they'd have this done. Then she could get the fuck out of here. "Trial" her ass..they would execute her like a fucking scapegoat, she was sure.

* * *

As the party arrived at the forward camp, Leliana argued with some Chantry prick.

When this "Chancellor Roderick" demanded Mithra be taken to Val Royeaux immediately to face execution, the ranger sneered. "Slow down, Asshole."

Surprised by this elf's boldness, the High Chancellor went silent for only a moment before he opened his mouth again.

Mithra wasn't in any mood to take his shit and got in his face. "Do you not see the giant green hole in the sky?" she asked while stabbing a finger at the Breach. "If you 'know' I'm guilty and want me dead so bad, why wait for some stupid trial?" Her slender fingers presented a dagger to him. "Kill me yourself. Here. Now."

When he didn't move to take it, she dropped the blade to her side and snapped, "Then quit wasting our _fucking_ time. There are more urgent matters than your little power-trip."

When Roderick opened his mouth to sling another accusation, Mithra pressed past him. "Stick a dick in it, "High Chancellor," the elf spat and turned toward the mountain path. "Let's get moving."

Nobody argued.

* * *

They finally made it to what was left of the temple.

The putrid scene of flaming husks hit Mithra hard. She blinked over stinging eyes while turning her gaze from the indistinguishable figures. Adaar and her crew were likely here somewhere, but she prayed she wouldn't cross paths with what was left of them.

As soon as they came to the remnants of a railed hallway, Mithra's gaze was drawn straight up at the gaping maw in the sky. "Shit... There's no way I can get up there." The pulsating, green menace swirled like a whirlpool and flashed with mock-lightening as if threatening to devour the world.

Solas pointed out a rift at the bottom of the crater, hypothesizing that it was the first rift, and it likely caused the ominous breach miles above them. He figured sealing it would at least stabilize the massive hole above.

"Worth a shot.." Mithra breathed as she turned to go.

When a deep voice boomed around them, the ranger looked but saw no one. It spoke again, and she noted that it seemed to echo. They listened to it as they went, hoping to figure out who did this.

Varric about lost his shit when he noticed forbidding red crystals growing from the walls. "You know this is red lyrium, Seeker."

"I see it, Varric," she snapped.

Frustrated with her dismissal, he pressed, "But what's it doing here?"

Solas offered his hypothesis, "Magic could have drawn on lyrium below the temple..corrupted it."

"It's evil. Whatever you do, don't touch it," the dwarf warned.

They found a way down to the rift at the bottom at last and headed for it. A different voice spoke then — a woman. Mithra couldn't help but think she knew it from somewhere, but couldn't place a time, face, or location.

Suddenly excited, Cassandra declared, "That's Divine Justinia's voice!"

The rift flared as the ranger hopped into the crater and began to show a scene.

**The Divine's arms were bound by swirling, red magic, holding her aloft.**

**A tall, clouded...creature approached the woman. "Keep the sacrifice still.."**

**Terrified, Justinia cried, "Someone! Help me!"**

**Soon after, Mithra burst through the door and snarled, "What's going on here?!"**

**"We have an intruder!" The lean, red-eyed shadow pointed at the ranger. "Slay the elf!"**

**The vision shuddered then and disappeared completely.**

Shock registered on Mithra's face before she tried to recall the event herself. There was still nothing..but why?

Cassandra practically pounced on Mithra. "You were there! Who attacked!? The Divine is she..!? What did we see? Was this vision true?!"

"I don't remember," Mithra asserted with a hard glare.

Solas chimed in, explaining that the rift had shown them a memory of what had happened in this place. He went on to say that this rift was closed for now, but could safely and permanently be sealed if they opened and then closed it again. But..opening it would likely draw the attention of demons.

At Cassandra's order, the soldiers that had followed them into the ruin readied themselves for the inevitable fight.

Mithra cautiously approached the rift and grasped at it with the mark.

When a gigantic Pride demon popped out of it, the ranger and Varric simultaneously shouted, "Shit!"

Mithra opted for an old bow she'd found. Staying near the rift to break the demon's guard was the best plan she could formulate on the fly.

While Cassandra hacked at the demon's scaly legs, the archers littered its thick hide with fletching, and Solas did all he could to keep barriers on the melee fighters.

After a few minutes and a couple of bruises, the purple hulk fell and faded into nothing.

The ranger eyed the enormous rift and exhaled nervously. She raised her hand, felt the connection and accompanying pull. The core of the rift stretched, but Mithra could feel that she wasn't enough to get it done.

It was too late to stop. The rift popped.

A blistering shockwave swept through the ruin and sent a piece of the rift hurtling up toward the Breach. When it slammed into the hungry maw, it snapped closed, and a gale blasted the valley below.


	5. Of Wounded Animals

Mithra had sailed from the rift when it popped and skidded violently across the rough stone of the temple ruin. Shredded clothing revealed badly gouged, raw flesh in various areas. The outside of her right thigh sustained the worst of it, and a gaping, jagged wound left her bleeding heavily.

Mithra screamed, cussed, and clawed at Solas and two soldiers when they tried to keep her from thrashing and hurting herself further. She wasn't herself. Somehow, Solas didn't think she was even truly conscious. She hadn't been when he lifted himself from the temple floor and rushed to her side, at least. That was until he tried to load her in a wagon.

"We must hurry!" Solas called to Varric, who was driving their cart over the treacherous terrain.

"Easier said than done, Chuckles! This pass is filled with debris! It's hard to find a path that won't just get us stuck out here!" He turned the trotting horse around a fallen tree.

Mithra glared vacantly when a soldier tried to hold down her wounded leg. With a ragged voice, she snarled, "DON'T TOUCH ME! VARAS!"

"Why not just tie her up? She's obviously not making it easy on you back there, and I doubt she ever will," Varric suggested, half-joking.

Solas' eyes went wide with realization. "An excellent idea, Master Tethras." He turned to the soldiers sharing their wagon. "Give us your belts, bind her wrists," he ordered while removing his own.

When he tried to wrestle her legs together, a knee crashed into his ear, but he persisted. When he had her legs clasped under his arm, he wrapped the leather tightly around her knees. She roared and writhed in his hold as he struggled to slip the leather through the buckle. When he firmly bound her ankles as well, all breathed a collective sigh of relief.

Now immobilized, she curled up on her side and sobbed loudly while spitting curses at her imagined assailants.

Solas' face twisted in discomfort as he scooped a handful of snow out of the wagon and held it to his burning ear.

A blond man on horseback loped up soon after.

"Curly! Where have you been hiding?" Varric poked at the commander.

Cullen scowled. "Fighting demons to give you a clear path back to Haven, of course."

Concerned, Solas asked, "Have more rifts opened ahead?"

Cullen guided his bay horse next to the wagon and said, "No. The rifts you cleared on your way to the temple have not reopened, thank the Maker." He spied the prisoner then but barely recognized her in her violently shredded state. "Maker! What happened to her?!"

"She tried to close the big one. It... didn't go well for her," Varric answered sullenly.

With an even tone, Solas added, "The Breach has been stabilized, however, and her mark is no longer spreading."

Cullen looked forward worriedly. "The path is much worse ahead, and we need her alive. Hand her to me."

One of the soldiers warned, "She will protest, sir. She's been fighting us tooth and nail the whole way."

Solas grinned. "She has a lot of spirit but has been stilled at last. Hold tightly to her. She will likely try to escape your grasp despite being bound."

Varric halted the cart, and one of the soldiers hopped out. The other lowered Mithra into his waiting arms while she writhed and cussed more, trying to fight them off but with no success. Mithra sobbed again, feeling helpless as the soldier handed her up to the commander.

When Cullen settled her sideways on the horse's withers in front of him, she tried to wiggle free of his firm embrace, but bloodloss was beginning to take its toll. She slumped against him, accepting her defeat at long last as she trembled and wept quietly.

Cullen nudged the horse into a lope, navigating the rubble-strewn mountain pass with greater ease than the wagon ever could. To his surprise, the ride seemed to comfort her.

The wind kicked up after a moment, and she shivered while pressing into him.

He brought the horse to a gradual stop. They didn't need her bleeding out and frozen. He paused, trying to figure out a way to keep her warm. After a moment, he opened his coat and wrapped it around her as best he could.

She sighed into the warm fur and smiled with mild comfort.

Cullen's face reddened at her suddenly pleased expression, wrapped in his coat, snuggled against him, openly cuddling its fur lining. As if carrying her down into the Chantry dungeons hadn't been awkward enough. He cleared his throat and looked to the sky, doing his best not to think about it.

Without further delay, he gently pressed the horse to quicken its pace once more.

* * *

Back in Haven, Cassandra barked orders at some serving girls and the alchemist, spurring them to make ready for their patient. They ran around her in a storm of preparation, gathering everything that might be needed to keep Mithra alive.

Cassandra had seen how grave her injuries were and had rushed ahead to prepare. She would have delivered her to Haven herself if Solas hadn't assured her that he would keep her alive.

She sagged, a lump of guilt burning in her throat over the vision she had seen in the temple. Mithra had tried to save Most Holy...and Cassandra had threatened to kill her.

When Cassandra saw Cullen ride into town with Mithra tucked firmly in the grasp of his free arm, she rushed forward.

While he released her to the waiting alchemist, Cullen explained, "They were having trouble navigating down the mountain in the cart. I offered to deliver her. We can't lose her."

A serving girl grabbed her legs while the alchemist carried her under the arms. Mithra moaned her protests but didn't have the strength to fight.

Cullen watched her disappear into the cabin with a wash of sadness and pity on his face. "I don't know how much longer she would have lasted. She lost a lot of blood on the way." He wiped at a crimson streak on his steed's shoulder and flicked it to the ground.

Cassandra's expression turned thunderous. "Solas was to keep her alive! Why did he not stop the bleeding?!"

Cullen chuckled as he dismounted. "I don't think she gave anyone a chance to. She fought from the moment they loaded her, I hear. It looked like she knocked Solas pretty good in the struggle."

One of the serving girls appeared in the doorway of the cabin. Timidly, she called, "Umm...Lady Cassandra..?"

Both Cassandra and Cullen turned their attention to her, waiting for her to continue.

"You..may want to see this.."

They exchanged a glance and walked quickly into the cabin.

As their eyes adjusted, they could see Mithra splayed on the bed. She lay on her belly with a sheet covering her uninjured leg and backside. Then they noticed it: her back and right arm were littered with pale scars and colorful tattoos.

* * *

Josmael lifted his nose to the wind. _"I can smell her, but I don't see her anywhere. She should have called by now."_

Danyla twitched her ears at his agitated whine.

Josmael took his nose to the ground, trying desperately to find a trail. _"Nothing here.."_ He grumbled and woofed at the harts behind him. _"Let's look elsewhere."_

* * *

"What do you make of them, Solas?" Cassandra asked curiously while he examined her forearm.

"Fascinating. The depictions are reminiscent of the ancient Elvhen style. I've seen it mostly as frescos in old ruins I've explored. Whoever did these had studied the style for a time. However, it isn't a perfect replica of the style itself. It's likely a mistake made by an untrained eye."

Leliana asked, "Yes, but what do they tell us about her?"

Annoyed, Solas rebuffed, "That is difficult to say without knowing anything about her. Do we even know her name? I've only ever heard her referred to as 'the prisoner' since I got here."

Cassandra winced. "No, we don't."

While averting his eyes from Mithra's exposed form, Cullen offered, "We know she came to the Conclave in a mercenary uniform. Whether she is a merc or someone who stole a uniform to gain unnoticed entry is anyone's guess."

"She has no facial tattoo, so she isn't Dalish," Leliana thought aloud.

Solas examined a tattoo on her wrist. "She was once if this type of ink says anything about her."

With Cassandra's curiosity piqued, she asked, "What do you mean?"

Solas sighed wearily. "The ink used is the same kind the Dalish use for their vallas'lin...the facial tattoos. It's a jealously guarded recipe. Either she or the artist was trained in its preparation at some point. I suspect she knows how to prepare it herself." He gestured to the ink on her arm and shoulder blade. "These are all done by the same hand. These however.." He pointed to her back. "..were done by various people, but it's all the same kind of ink. Prepared with great care, in a wide range of shades and tones."

Leliana crossed her arms and looked at him pointedly. "How can you tell?"

"There are many very subtle differences in the care of application. Some were done by a lazy, uncaring hand - likely hired. Others are by close friends or meticulous artists who took the time to work her scars into the art. These, specifically, were done roughly a week ago by one such artist. They're still healing," he finished.

After an awkward pause, Cassandra asked, "Anything else?"

Solas thought while reading the artwork in her skin. "Her use of that particular ink may indicate that she has little to no love for the Dalish. For what reason, I couldn't begin to guess. Also, the work began when she was very young. Some of these are approximately a decade old."

Cullen suggested, "We should begin planning how to close the Breach fully. It may be stable, but who knows for how long."

"Agreed," Solas groaned as he got up to leave. "Tomorrow? There is much to consider, and night is upon us."

Cassandra and Cullen nodded and turned to leave. Leliana followed without a word.

* * *

The next morning, Cullen stood among his troops in the training yard, lost in thought over Mithra and her scars. What had she been through to have so many?

He traced the scar on his lip, remembering how he'd gotten it; betrayal. His maddened boss had turned on him, on them all. Now she was dead, a statue of red lyrium where a person once stood.

Cullen shook away the thoughts of Kirkwall, still not able to forgive himself for failing his charges. He exhaled slowly, and his hand slipped into his pocket.

He felt something there and pulled it out.

He stared at the whistle, really looking at it for the first time. It was made of an exotic wood he'd never seen before, carved with careful hands and patience. Cullen thumbed the intricate carving along the top and, for a moment, felt oddly comforted by it.

He turned it to peer inside. There was nothing to make it work; no piece within to pinch the air and produce sound. Perplexed, he thought that, perhaps, it wasn't a whistle at all.

* * *

Midday approached when Cassandra, Cullen, Leliana, and all the rest gathered in the War Room with their ideas to deal with the Breach.

Solas hypothesized that, with the aid of the Rebel Mages, they could pour enough power into the mark to seal it for good.

Cullen suggested approaching the Templar Order to suppress the power of the Breach so Mithra could close it safely.

Cassandra disagreed, remarking that they needed power to pour into the mark on the elf's hand.

Leliana and Josephine contemplated the political angles of allying with either party but seemed to lean toward liberating the Rebel Mages.

However, they were at a stalemate; neither faction would even acknowledge their existence at this time. The Inquisition was too new and powerless to be worth notice.

* * *

They checked on Mithra's condition. She wasn't thrashing any longer, but she was still mumbling the same gibberish as the day before.

"Something about grey...and too many eyes.." Cassandra puzzled, and the rest just shrugged.

Leliana was more interested in the elvish words she spoke, asking Solas to translate for them. She was determined to learn something about her.

"How peculiar.. She uses the phrase "isa'ma'sal" which, in literal translation, means "boy of my soul." What's odd about it is that "isa'ma'lin" translates to "boy of my blood," meaning "brother"..." Solas explained.

With a faint trace of hope, Leliana guessed, "A lover?"

"Possibly. However, it'd be more appropriate to say "Ma'sal'shiral" or "my soul's journey" in reference to a lover," Solas rebuffed.

"How does "soul's journey" say "lover"..?" Cullen asked curiously.

Guardedly, Solas explained, "There's too much cultural connotation to go through to offer a complete answer, but the phrase is the Elvhen equivalent to "Love of my life".."

Cassandra blushed slightly. "So, who could she be referring to?"

Solas replied, "It'd be much easier if we knew who, but I'd hazard a guess that it's someone very dear to her in any case. Or perhaps, someone she feels is her brother but is of no blood relation. That would explain the substitution of "sal" in the place of "lin."

Cullen didn't feel any better about her mumbling, remembering how she had cuddled up to him when she'd said it the first time. "What does "Yos-myel" mean? I heard her say it once."

Solas looked at him blankly. "It translates to "forward runner" or "scout," but it is a name, not a phrase or title."

Leliana made a mental note of the name and would have her agents search for an elf called Josmael later that day.

* * *

There. Mithra was there; he could feel it.

Josmael lifted his nose to the air again, sniffing lightly. He had Mithra's scent. It was stronger here than it was on the other side of the mountain.

He eyed the cozy town below, hoping to spot her somewhere among the people. He didn't see her, but he knew she was there.

The wolf growled out a series of barks, signaling his four-legged charges to stay close.

No wonder she didn't call, there were a lot of people here. He whined again. She would call soon; she must.

* * *

On the third day, Mithra woke in a strange room with old wooden planks for walls. She could feel a fire nearby and a bed beneath her. Then she noticed her tight, itchy clothing. What in the world was she wearing? Drab, tan human sleeping clothes?

She sat up just as an elvhen serving girl entered.

"Oh!" The girl was so surprised she dropped the package in her arms and stammered, "I-I-I didn't know you were awake! I swear!"

Mithra cocked her head at the cowering girl. Did all city elves snivel so? When the girl prostrated herself and rambled on about "blessings" and "forgiveness," her face became the definition of confusion. After she regained her focus, Mithra asked, "Where am I?"

"In Haven, my lady. They say you saved us. Said you stopped the Breach from growing."

Mithra tried to recall; the memory was mostly there, and it didn't hurt to think about it. She moved to get up, swinging her legs off the side of the bed. When her right leg protested the movement, she hissed with a tight grimace.

"You were injured. Your leg, especially. I helped patch you up.."

Slightly embarrassed, Mithra asked, "How long have I been here?"

"You've been unconscious for three days now," the girl informed meekly.

Mithra visibly sagged. "Three days?" Josmael and the girls are probably long gone, dead, or thought she was. She noticed then that her whistle wasn't around her neck and very subtly panicked. "Where are my things?"

"I'm...not sure? Lady Cassandra may be holding them for you. She's in the Chantry." The girl approached slowly with a long birch stick and held it out to her. "Adan said you'd need this for a few days. Your leg is in no condition to bear weight."

Mithra took the offered walking stick graciously. "Ma serranas, Da'len. Thank you." She braced herself with the staff, tried to lift herself from the bed, and failed.

The girl wrung her hands and looked as if she wanted to help her, but was afraid to offer.

"Yes, please. I could use some fresh air," Mithra said with a smile as if reading her mind.

She grinned timidly, wrapped an arm around Mithra's left side, and gently helped her stand. She waited to release her until she was stable on her feet.

"Ma serranas, once again."

"Umm...You're welcome," she said shyly, apparently unaccustomed to thanks, and she left in a nervous hurry.

Mithra hobbled around the room for a bit, adjusting to using the staff for support before trying to venture outside. Leg injuries were always the worst for her. She could deal with a shoulder with little complaint, but an injured leg kept her from moving well.

She finally wandered toward the door and opened it. There was a dense crowd of people standing before her modest cabin, watching for her to emerge.

Mithra froze in the doorway, wide-eyed and fearful, like a deer that knew the arrow was about to pierce them with no hope of escape.

A tall, blond man wandered up the stairs. Upon looking up from his reading, he spotted her and approached the cabin quickly.

Mithra knew that posture, that gait. A templar was coming toward her. She spun and slammed the door while shivering and whimpering. Fen'edhis! She was trapped! She couldn't run on this leg! She choked out a sob as she sank to the floor.

There was a tapping on the door behind her. "Miss? Are you alright?"

Mithra panted faster; instinctual terror had her firmly in hand as she screeched, "Su an'banal i'ma, Templar!"

Cullen was perplexed. He'd seen her terrified expression and came to offer help, but now she shrieked in horror at him through a door. "Please, allow me to help. I imagine you're afraid and don't even know where you are," he said as gently as he could manage while remaining audible through the cedar barrier.

"Dhava 'ma masa! I'm _fine_! I'm in _Haven_. Now go away!" She tried to rein herself in and relax to no avail. Her suppressed sobs choked her until each became louder.

At a loss, Cullen let his head fall on the door and offered, "Would you like me to bring Cassandra or Solas? Maybe Varric?" Her refusal of his aid gouged at him, leaving his stomach with a hollow pit.

She tried desperately to calm herself enough to think. Cassandra knew she was uncomfortable with crowds. She could get them to disperse or hide her beneath a cloak again. She took a deep, calming breath and announced, "Cassandra."

"Very well. I'll return with her shortly," he pledged before heading toward the Chantry.

* * *

"What do you mean she won't come out?!" Cassandra growled.

Cullen jumped on the defensive as soon as her glare began to form. "Just that, Cassandra. She's shut herself in the cabin and refuses to leave it."

"Why did you not force your way in? She doesn't weigh a hundred pounds when soaked. You should have brought her."

"Are you serious?! She-" He cut himself off and took a calming breath. "She's terrified of me as it is. She slammed the door the moment she saw me and demanded I leave when I tried to offer her my assistance." He wasn't sure what hurt more: that she was afraid of him, or the way she had shrieked at him. "She asked for you, Cassandra."

The seeker's brow furrowed. "Why would she-? Ooooohhh.." She trailed off, now seeing the people lined up along the town's snow-covered street. She laughed a short, throaty chuckle.

Cullen just gave her a hardened look of confusion. "What's funny?"

"She isn't afraid of _you_, Commander." She gestured to the gathered masses. "She was terrified of the crowd. She wouldn't - couldn't - move when I brought her out of the dungeons the other day."

He seemed a little relieved to hear it and barked at the crowd, ordering them back to work.

Some looked utterly disappointed and shuffled back to their posts. Others were glad not to have to stand there any longer and practically strutted back to their business.

Cassandra grinned at the effectiveness of his famous scowl. "Let us find a hooded coat. She will need it as much to hide in as to fend off the cold."

They made their way to Seggrit's stand and began looking for something suitable. He didn't have much to choose from, but they found a cloak of deep red that seemed short enough for the elf to wear.

"Here." Cassandra looked pleased with her purchase, and they strolled back up the stairs toward Mithra's self-imposed prison.

Solas was on his way to check her condition. "Good morning, Seeker. Commander," he greeted with his brand of polite. "She is awake?"

With a hint of pain in his eyes, Cullen answered, "Quite awake, and full of fire."

The moment Cassandra rapped on the door, Mithra snarled, "Did you bring the seeker, _**Templar**_?"

Cassandra's eyes widened for a moment. She hadn't even heard Circle Mages use the word with that much venom.

When she didn't answer, Cullen did, "I have. Will you come out now?"

"Lasas _adahl_ sunar masa! You lie! If she were with you, she would have spoken! Leave!"

They glanced at Solas out of habit, as they'd come to expect translations from him for the last few days.

He balked and stifled a laugh, but poorly. "I am _not_ translating that one."

Cassandra lost her patience and kicked the door open. She found herself crumpled in a pile on the floor a second later, white, hot pain spreading across her jaw.

Mithra crouched just beyond the doorway, twirling the birch staff in her hand around to the ready position. She glared at who she thought was Cullen when she swung. She realized a second later that it was Cassandra she had struck down and shifted her gaze to her intended target: The Templar.

Cullen instinctively took a defensive position; Mithra responded to it. A fight it would be then..

She took a leaping step with her left leg, jabbed the staff on the floor, and launched herself forward. She curled around while tucking her legs beneath her and furiously lashed out.

Cullen went down hard, out cold from a kick to the cheek.

Solas stood alone now. While his posture was relaxed, his face betrayed his surprise.

Irrational and full of adrenalin, Mithra tried to run for the gates. Using the staff to aid her flight, she limped forward as quickly as she could.

With an abrupt wave of his hand, Solas froze her from the elbows down by her fifth agonized stride, leaving her wholly immobilized and unable to attack.

"HARELLAN!" she howled in growing fury, but he seemed unmoved by the insult. She was absolutely livid, and she let him know it with every curse she knew, in both Elvish and Common, while she jerked and struggled in her icy prison.


	6. Games

Mithra had shrieked and ranted at them until her voice became raw. Now she kneeled with her arms shackled to the stone wall of the dungeons. While a low growl rumbled in her throat, she stared them all down.

Solas silently leaned against a stone pillar while Varric left. He wasn't comfortable with interrogations ever since one of his books got stabbed by a particular seeker.

Cassandra and Cullen stood nearby, bruised by Mithra's blows. Fortunately, they'd sustained no serious injuries from the ordeal. They shifted awkwardly and wondered what they would do now. The prisoner hadn't said a word despite thorough questioning.

Leliana stood beside a large table and started looking over various tools. It seemed torture would be next on the agenda.

Cullen went wide-eyed when Leliana approached the pinned elf with a terrifying-looking device. What it did, he would rather leave to his imagination. He opened his mouth to protest but decided to remain quiet. What could he possibly say anyway?

When Mithra's head was forced back, she rumbled, "You want my life story, Spymaster?" A thick, ragged chuckle echoed in the elf's chest. "You'd be better off chasing ghost stories and urban legends."

Solas and the others looked to her with open surprise, amazed that she was still so defiant, even when facing torture. She was an anomaly, and the mage was certain she would remain one under such treatment.

Leliana's delicate features twisted in frustration. The perception of torture hadn't worked either. How could she open her up? Her gloved hand slipped to her belt, where she exchanged her tool for a small vial. A weak sleeping draught should loosen the prisoner's lips splendidly.

Mithra's wet chuckle filled the room again while the bottle was pressed to her lips. She breathed through her nose, refusing to drink.

Leliana grew more irascible by the moment. She pinched the woman's nose shut to make her drink so she could breathe once more.

As soon as she stepped away, Mithra laughed out loud until she grew drowsy, then slumped; her pinned arms the only things keeping her from the floor.

"What is your name?"  
She huffed with amusement. "Which one?"

Where are you from?  
Mithra chuckled. "Everywhere."

"Who is Josmael?"  
"Ma isa'ma'sal."

"Why were you at the Conclave?"  
"To repay a debt."

"Were you sent to kill the Divine?"  
"No."

"Did you come alone?"  
"No."

"Who did you come with?"  
"A friend."

"Are they still alive?"  
"I doubt it."

Leliana asked innumerable questions, trying to get more details for a painful two hours and three additional draughts. The elf simply offered one or two words per answer, often in Elvhen, which Solas only roughly translated. In time, Leliana simply gave up.

When Mithra regained some lucidity, she offered, "Trade."

Leliana sighed and looked to their prisoner with exhaustion all over her face. "Trade what?"

"Answers for freedom. One question per day. A game."

The spymaster looked to the others for their thoughts.

Solas looked displeased. "Well, nothing else is working, short of torture," he spat.

Cassandra shook her head. "I believe she was not sent to kill Most Holy, as she said. You were there, Leliana. The vision at the temple showed that she rushed to Most Holy's aid."

When she'd made up her mind, Leliana turned back to the prisoner. "What are your terms?"

Mithra heaved a sigh and cracked one violet eye open. "There's a cabin outside of town. I want to stay there. I don't do well in crowds. Look it over if you like, I've never been inside. I want my things returned to my possession and for my companions to stay with me if they still live. And I don't want people kicking in my door whenever they wish. Look what happened last time." Mithra's wicked little grin curled as she lifted her head and gave the bruised warriors a wink.

Cassandra and Cullen scowled at the imprisoned elf but said nothing. It was not funny.

Leliana simply nodded.

"Any counter conditions, Spymaster?" Mithra offered.

"You report everything you do to me. If you don't, I will know about it. Each member of the council gets one question per day, not just me. And you must answer every question truthfully. Beyond that, you must cooperate fully with the Inquisition. Help our people fight. Close the rifts. You are the only one who can."

Mithra huffed again. "Closing the rifts goes without saying, but alright. I agree to your terms."

When Leliana freed her from the iron bar, she groaned with discomfort and braced herself on the wall. "I don't suppose I'll be getting my walking stick back?"

"Not a chance," Cassandra drawled.

Mithra huffed while rubbing one sore wrist. "It was worth asking… May I request some assistance? I think our little scrap injured my leg further. I don't trust myself to walk."

Before Cullen could take a full step toward her, she held up her hand to stop him. "Not you, Templar," she spat.

His brow furrowed. Why not him? He'd already helped her twice, even if she had been unconscious.

Solas approached and helped her stand. With her arm around his neck and his hand bracing her side, they began to hobble forward.

"Ma serranas, Hahren."

He grinned at the word. "It is nothing, Da'len."

Cullen scowled at the pair and turned to leave. Fine then.

* * *

Once in the war room, Mithra pressed herself into the wall. One, to keep herself standing. Two, to put as much room as possible between her and the templar.

Cullen shifted uncomfortably under her hot glare. He looked over the map and rested his hands on the table while trying to pretend she wasn't even in the room. What was her problem?

Soon, Solas entered with a stool and sat it beside her.

While carefully lowering herself upon the chair, Mithra said, "Ma serranas once again, Hahren."

"You are welcome. Would you like some healing, Da'len?"

She looked surprised by the offer. "You're a healer? I thought you were purely battle with the way you handled yourself in the mountains."

He smiled. "I have many magical skills. Healing happens to be one of them."

"Then, yes, please. The sooner I can move, the sooner I'll relax."

With a wave of his hand, the magic began to glow in his palm, and he gently touched her thigh.

She sighed with some relief while ragged flesh knit back together below the stitches.

While Cullen glared jealously at the pair on the other side of the table, an Antivan woman entered the room in a flurry.

"Welcome, Josephine. We've been expecting you," Leliana teased.

"I am so sorry. We had a visit from the DuRellions, and I just had to resolve it." The woman noticed Mithra then. "Oh! This is her?"

Cullen, Leliana, and Cassandra nodded.

"Andiran atish'an," Josephine greeted warmly.

Mithra smirked. "En'an'sal'enast ea amahn. Nuvenan ma son."

While Solas looked impressed with her use of the formal response, Josephine's brain stopped dead in its tracks. She didn't know any Elvhen beyond the greeting she had offered.

Mithra looked amused. "I said that I am blessed to be here, and I hope you are well."

Josephine brightened. "Ah. I am well, thank you. And may I just say that you have the most beautiful hair I have ever seen."

Mithra blushed a little and slid her hands down her long, snowy braid repeatedly. "Umm… Thank you. You have lovely skin."

While Josie beamed at the returned compliment, Leliana announced, "To work, then."

Mithra smirked. "Question time, I take it?"

Leliana folded her arms behind her back. "Yes. What is your name?"

"My parents named me Mithra."

"Where are you from?" Josephine quizzed.

The ranger grinned. "Are you asking where I was born, or where I was before the Conclave?"

"Oh.. Where were you before attending the Conclave?"

"The Free Marches."

Cullen took a moment to think before asking, "Why are you afraid of templars?"

The heat returned to her gaze when she looked to him. "I _hate_ them. I've seen them do some absolutely disgusting things in my time, even before their war with the mages began. Those creatures very nearly claimed my life on several occasions."

Sadness washed over the commander's face, but he said nothing further.

The ranger rubbed her arms and took a deep breath to calm herself. "I am sorry for assaulting you earlier. I felt that my life was in danger. Last time I was in Haven, everyone was looking at me like they wanted to kill me, and my instincts run a bit..hot. But we'll be working together. I hope we can put these things behind us."

Cullen nodded and flashed her tight a smile in response.

Mithra looked to the spymaster once again. "Now for your end of the bargain. My things?"

When Cassandra presented the belt she'd been wearing before all of this bullshit, she took it eagerly and began emptying the pouches in her lap. She found her wood scraps, her tools, some dried meat, a water skin. "My necklace?" the ranger asked with worry. She'd better not have lost it in the explosion.

Cullen cleared his throat and pulled the wooden cylinder from his pocket. "I discovered it on your person after we found you. I thought it was something to signal reinforcements, so I..held onto it."

Mithra's heart hammered in her ears. A templar had it, but she was glad to see it intact. She braced her hands upon the wall and pushed herself up from the stool. The first step was okay, thanks to Solas' healing, but the second landed her on the table.

The commander swept around the ambassador to help her, but Solas was already there. The moment he reached her side, Mithra went as rigid as a cat that was staring into a Mabari's gaping maw.

He noticed her discomfort and took a step back. "Forgive me."

She blew her nerves over the table and swallowed. "No… We'll be working together for the foreseeable future. I need to adjust to this situation."

Cullen nodded and slowly held the trinket out to her.

She forced herself to take slow, deep breaths while she stared at it. The table was no longer between them, and the modest security it offered was gone. But the means to call her family back to her side was right there. Slowly, she reached out to take it, but her hand refused to move within a foot of the templar's.

What was she waiting for? Feeling awkward, the commander rubbed the back of his neck.

Mithra's hand jerked away as if he would try to keep it.

"May I?" Solas offered.

She shook her head. "No..thank you. I have to do this." The ranger blew out her stress and reached once more. Two heartbeats later, she declared, "I need some air," and used the table to move toward the door.

Solas was right behind her.

* * *

By the time they reached the Chantry doors, Mithra was sweaty and shivering, but her blood felt like lava in her veins. She'd tried to touch a templar..without intent to kill. Her mind couldn't take it.

Tears flooded the ranger's eyes as Solas guided her over the snow and drew her to the left.

Her tears spilled when they sat, and she scooped a handful of snow and pressed it to her injured leg. If only the cold could quell the burning sensation coursing through her.

"He is kind if stern. He won't harm you," Solas offered gently.

Mithra lifted her face to the sky and drew a deep breath. "He is a templar. That's all they do."

"Da'len... Look at me."

Her teary, violet eyes locked with his grey-blue ones. The troubling emotions he saw there made him pause until he blinked it away.

"He has not harmed you yet, and I doubt he will."

She scowled at him. He probably didn't know the guy any better than she did. "What makes you so sure?"

A soft chuckle escaped him. "Because the commander rushed you to the healers after you attempted to close the Breach. He delivered you safely while neither Varric nor myself could."

She paled at the news. "You let him TOUCH me? Are you insane?" Fresh tears bubbled up as she buried her face in her knees.

Not long after, Cassandra rounded the corner with a bundle of red in her hands.

Cullen stopped beside her only a second later. Had he frightened her so completely?

The ranger peered over her shoulder and eagerly wiped her tears away.

"Umm... Mithra?" Cassandra began. "The commander and I got you this. I thought it was the crowd that had kept you in your quarters. I am sorry."

The ranger's mouth hung open slightly. She had knocked this woman out just a few hours ago, but she was the one apologizing? "No.. I should have kept a better handle on myself. I'm sorry for knocking you out."

The seeker shook her head and presented the package again. "I should not have kicked in your door. I didn't consider anything beyond getting you to come out."

After a moment's hesitation, Mithra took it and held it up. "It's beautiful. Thank you." She swung it around and over her shoulders then lifted the large hood over her head. "A nice fit too."

A wide smile took Cassandra's face, glad it suited her.

Mithra looked to Cullen then. "Thank you, as well...Commander. Solas tells me you rushed me to the healers after..." she gestured to her injured leg to supplement her meaning. "Ma serranas. It seems I have you to thank for my life."

He bowed with a gentle smile. "Of course, Lady Mithra."

Mithra shivered and released a heavy breath. "We should get to know each other.. We'll be working together, after all."

"What would you like to know?" He asked while nodding toward the training grounds and starting off.

She pulled the deep red cloak around her tightly and followed a few feet behind.

Still, Solas was right behind her.

* * *

Cullen smiled while Mithra sat in deep concentration. She clearly wasn't as aggressive as she had displayed earlier. Nor was the ranger as sweet as he had mistaken.

The moment she finished telling him of the sea portion of her journey, he'd challenged her to a game. He didn't expect her to sit on the wall five feet from him and play without a board. That took intelligence. Even so, he could tell she hadn't been playing chess for long.

"Mage to E5," she finally decided.

"Hm.." Cullen thought a moment. It would probably help their relationship to let her win. He couldn't make it obvious, however. "Knight to E5. Check."

"Fen'edhis! My second mage.." she pouted.

The commander's smirk spread. "Giving up?"

She scowled at him. "Never, Templar." A shiver of panic ran through her so hard it was palpable. Mithra leaned away from him and into Solas' side.

Solas turned the next page of his book and smiled at her move. "It is a common mistake."

She picked at her nails and nodded in shame. "Queen to H4," she announced.

"Ugh..my knight," Cullen grumbled. "Mage to B4. Check."

Her eyes went wide. "Queen to B4..." Mithra thought for a second. "And Check."

Cullen's smile grew. "That's Mate. Well played."

A small laugh huffed from her while she wrung her hands. "Beginner's luck."

The commander took out the white cylindrical necklace once more and fiddled with it.

After a long, tense moment, Mithra released a breath she didn't realize she was holding.

Slowly, he offered it to her. "I do believe this is yours."

She trembled but willed herself to remain calm and reached for it. Her whistle was right there. Cullen was just a person, not a-

"Isa'ma'sal," Solas crooned from behind.

Mithra gasped and whipped her head around. "How do you-" her words quit when something pressed into her hand. She clutched it and pulled back while looking back to the commander with wide, horrified eyes.

Cullen had closed the last few inches between their hands while she was distracted. He smirked at her but said nothing.

She looked to the item in her hand and began to tear up. "Thank you so much! You have no idea-" She swallowed hard and gave him an uncertain smile. "Thank you."

"Of course," Cullen responded while she stood.

As soon as it was around her neck once more, that wicked little grin of hers curled her lip. "Leliana's been dying to meet Josmael. I'd say it's time to introduce them."


	7. Reunion

The sky grew more vibrant as the sun made its descent; pink and gold light filtering through the darkening clouds.

Mithra stood halfway down the road out of Haven and down into Ferelden proper. Solas, Cassandra, and Leliana were standing with her; eager to meet her Josmael, though they had no idea what he was yet.

Cullen, Varric, Josephine, and a few curious folks gathered near the training grounds.

"Do you need help standing, Da'len?" Solas asked.

Mithra smiled appreciatively but shook her head. "No, thank you, Hahren. Your healing has done me a lot of good today. I'm strong enough to stand on my own." She gestured toward the crowd behind them. "It would be best if all of you waited near Varric and the rest. Josmael gets fiercely protective if he thinks I'm in danger, and you're all strangers to him. It's hard to say how he'll react. It's been nearly five days now. We've never been separated for this long."

As the all turned to go, Mithra called, "Oh..Cassandra?"

She turned. "What is it?"

With a mischievous grin, she dropped her voice to a whisper, "I'll let you in on a little secret... Josmael is not an elf."

Cassandra looked puzzled. "Human then?"

Mithra shook her head. "He's a wolf...and a pretty big one."

Cassandra looked aghast and looked at the small crowd. "Why haven't you told the rest?"

Mithra laughed lightly. "Because I don't want to miss the look on the spymaster's face when she sees him."

Cassandra smiled then. "You are a shit, you know that?"

When Mithra put on her finest faux-innocent smile, Cassandra laughed.

"Just...keep everyone as calm as you can. Please."

As the woman turned to join the rest, Mithra fondled her whistle and sighed deeply. They were on the other side of the mountain before the explosion. They were probably far away searching. She would need to push some power into the call to reach them.

The ironbark piece glowed a ghostly blue in her hand when she concentrated on the calls in her mind. Faint gasps sounded behind her when she brought it to her lips and raised it to the sky. When she felt her power wash over and around her, she knew she was aglow; the reason for their surprise.

Vibrant, tangible wolf song rang through the air as she put out the call. As the opening song came to an end, she focussed on the second while pushing a little more power into the effort. It blended smoothly into a distinct hart's bugle. The sound rolled throughout the valley and up into the mountains; everything awash in the blue fog of her "magic."

She ended her call in a flourish and brought the whistle back to her chest. She silently prayed they were alive and that they would hear the call and hurry back to her.

Wolves throughout the mountains sang in response, announcing their presence with a sweet, musical "Hello!" She listened for Josmael, but couldn't pick his voice out of the choir.

She called again, letting the music pour from the token with more vigor.

The great wolf let his voice rip through the sky; an almost pained cry saying, _"I've missed you so much!"_

He appeared then; the dark grey beast the size of a halla. With his head held high, he loped easily out of the woods to stand before her. His asa'ma'sal.

Her light faded as she kneeled before him, took him in her arms, and buried her face in his fur; smiling brightly with tears streaming down her cheeks.

After a long moment, she remembered the people gathered and stood with Josmael's help. Mithra leaned on him as she limped down the road, and they stopped a few yards away, taking in all of the emotions that played on the audience's faces.

Mithra sputtered a laugh, she couldn't help it. They all looked so mesmerized.

Delighted with her dumbstruck expression, Mithra addressed the spymaster, "Leliana..._This_ is Josmael."

The bugling of harts rang through the air as the elegant beasts galloped toward her.

"Hello, Ladies!" Mithra cheered, glad to see them safe with most of her saddlebags intact.

They tossed their heads joyously as they slowed to a trot. Danyla spun once and bucked playfully, expressing her excitement. They hopped up to Mithra and bounced in place before finally calming themselves.

She hugged their large faces and placed kisses on their foreheads while rubbing and scratching them lovingly. As she released the golden hart, she asked, "Danyla, be my legs?"

The cream-colored beast grunted and huffed in response while shaking her head and lowering her antlers. Mithra held on with one hand as Danyla lifted her off the ground, elevating her onto her back gracefully before receiving a firm pat of thanks.

* * *

They approached the cabin outside of town with the companions following close behind. Mithra loved the way it was nestled cozily in the woods of the area.

"We're home!" she sang to her companions cheerfully and dismounted, grasping both hart's antlers and easing herself down to do so. Josmael was at her side immediately to keep her steady as they approached the door.

They were assaulted by stale air as soon as the door swung open. Mithra waved her hand before her nose and stepped inside, surveying the new quarters.

This cabin was larger than the one in town, an excellent place to retreat from Haven's crowded streets and do some work.

The rest entered with her bags in their arms, helping her move in.

Solas moved to the large brazier and set the lumber within ablaze immediately.

Mithra turned to the group with a grateful smile. "Thanks for your help. I never would have been able to move it all myself."

They nodded politely and smiled.

With two large packs held to her chest, Cassandra asked, "Where would you like these?"

She gestured to the wall right beside the seeker. "There will do. Thank you."

"You have enough bows here, Starshine?" Varric teased; his arms wrapped around a bundle of wood bound loosely in a leather sheet.

Mithra smiled and shook her head. "I always end up with way more than I need. I make them myself."

Cullen looked surprised. "You make bows?"

She nodded. "I make a great many things. Armor, weapons, trinkets, figurines.." She trailed off and began fishing in her bag for her clothes, eager to be rid of the pajamas she'd been running around in. In the process, she found a mess of leather and arranged it in a neat stack next to her bags. "That's a relief. I was hoping this wasn't lost."

The seeker eyed the large bundle and asked, "What is it? A coat?"

Mithra grinned. "A suit of armor. I'll show you tomorrow if you like." She tossed her bed of furs toward the adjacent wall, and Josmael circled them and lay down with his head on his paws, waiting for her to join him.

Leliana studied the new bow of Sylvanwood, turning it over in her hands carefully. "Where'd you learn your skills? These are very well made."

The ranger grinned playfully over her shoulder. "Why, Spymaster, that's a question! Are you trying to cheat in our game already?"

Varric chuckled. Solas had relayed the happenings of the interrogation to him. The dwarf found it hilarious and was actually sorry he'd missed it.

Leliana smirked with amusement. "Alright, Wolf-girl. Tomorrow then," she conceded as she set the incomplete bow next to the doorframe.

As everyone turned to leave Mithra and get some much-needed sleep, Solas stopped in the doorway. "Do you need anything, Da'len?"

She smiled at his silhouette. "No, thank you, Hahren. On nydha."

"On nydha.." He left then, strolling after the rest.

* * *

Cullen couldn't sleep. The vision of her on the snowy road haunted him in the most enticing of ways. She was so beautiful... He rolled onto his side and closed his eyes to sleep. There she was, glowing behind his eyelids and beckoning to him like a siren.

He sat up and rubbed his face, trying to shake her off. She couldn't even stand to be in the same room with him. He shouldn't torture himself with hope.

He laughed then, recalling how she had cuddled into him while she was unconscious. The fur... She mistook his coat for her wolf. It made sense now.

Cullen sighed and sagged, thinking about her scars again. Templars... Did they do that to her over the years? That's why she was terrified of him.

He threw his blankets off and got up, tired of fighting to go to sleep.

He dressed in his trousers, boots, and coat before stepping outside. The cold night air caressed his bare chest, and he breathed deeply, hoping the chill would calm his racing thoughts. No such luck.

Maybe she would come to trust him in time... Cullen glowered at the memory of her leaning into Solas whenever she grew uncomfortable. The apostate had sat by coolly, smugly reading his book like nothing was going on. He didn't know how lucky he was. She looked to him for support and protection..from him, the big scary Templar...

It burned in him like righteous fire. He was not a templar, but Cullen Stanton Rutherford, Commander of the Inquisition Forces.

He steeled himself and returned to his quarters to try to sleep again.

* * *

Solas lay awake, calmly staring at the ceiling of his small cabin. The vision of the woman that had gained his attention played in his mind.

What manner of power did she possess? It didn't come from the Fade... It seemed to come from her instead. His brow knit slightly, trying to figure out how it was possible.

The item she used to summon her wolf... Maybe it was from..? No, it was new. Made in this age, likely by her own hand.

The mage sighed, closed his eyes, and quieted his mind. He admired the sight of her, radiating starlight and music in his mind's eye until he drifted to sleep.


	8. Developments

Hooves thundered through the training ground, passing the recruits in a blur. Happy panting and rushing paws followed close behind, hot on the trail.

The troops scurried out of the way, thinking they were about to be bowled over.

Mithra laughed far behind, wrapped in red velvet with a bow on her back and a quiver on her hip. She clutched an oak staff while walking carefully toward Haven's town gate. Her leg was nearly completely mended, but walking was still a chore.

Cullen's face grew hard at the commotion, watching the golden hart and slate wolf race beside the camp and frighten his recruits.

"Can you get them away from my soldiers? They're disturbing my training exercise," Cullen growled while gesturing to the pair as they returned from the other way.

Mithra stopped about ten paces away and shrank under his gaze. "Ma nuvenin, Templar. I'll ask them to play elsewhere."

Cullen flinched at the word and softened his gaze. Well done,_ Templar._

She turned slowly and called. "Josmael!"

The wolf sprinted up and spun circles around her while wagging so hard his body all but snapped in half. She laughed in the wake of his joy. Cullen couldn't help but smile at the sound of her laughter and the scene before him.

"You're bothering the troops. Take your game to the hills behind the house," Mithra ordered gently.

Still wagging violently, Josmael answered with a series of gruffs and whines.

"Yes, I think it's funny, too, but you're disturbing their training."

He woofed and went, chasing Danyla in the direction requested.

Cullen stood there, wide-eyed now. "You understand each other?"

She turned to face him again. "Of course. The call wouldn't be as effective if I didn't know his language. And giving commands would be impossible if he didn't understand me."

Cullen regarded her doubtfully. "His language?"

She smiled meekly. "Every creature has a language. Most only witness a creature's body language such as postures, gestures, and facial expressions. But from a distance, they use sounds to communicate. It's no different from people."

"So, how does one learn their language?" he teased.

Mithra smirked. "How does a child learn the language of their parents?" With that, she made a wide arc around Cullen, careful not to get close as she passed him.

Her long white braid wagged as she walked; Cullen found himself watching her move and considering her words.

Solas met her near the gate to the town. "Good morning," he greeted almost cheerfully.

She smiled. "Good morning, Hahren. How are you?"

"Very well, thank you. How is the leg?" Solas asked while gesturing to her slight limp.

"Steadily getting better, thanks to your healing skills."

"I see you found another walking stick." He chuckled.

She laughed at that. "I'll try not to clobber anyone with this one." They exchanged smiles, amused by her fight the day before.

"You were quite impressive with it last time. Your grace and wit are something to behold."

His tone was one of observation, but she detected a little flirt in his word choice and blushed. "Thank you."

He gestured politely toward the low wall next to the road. "Shall we sit?"

She smiled at his propriety and teased, "We shall."

They walked back up the road, just past the training yard, and perched on the low stone wall.

"May I ask you something?" He began; his tone even and proper as he took her leg into his lap for more healing.

"Certainly, Hahren. What would you like to know?"

"Your..power..what is it? Where does it come from? You don't pull from the Fade as mages do. If you had, I would have felt it."

She chewed her lip and thought a moment. "It comes from me, though I know I'm not a mage. I can't make fire or lightning, or even heal as you do."

He watched her and considered her words. "Can you describe the process to me? What do you feel when you use it? I find it fascinating." He practically sighed the last word, the vision of her last night coming to mind.

She lost herself in thought for a few moments, trying to find the words to describe it. Her thoughts were soon shattered by a series of yips and howling barks.

Josmael tore out of the woods near the cabin as fast as he could.

Mithra saw his expression and knew right away that he was fleeing for his life.

A big, pissed off druffalo barreled around the corner a second later, skidding sideways a few paces. It steadied itself and prepared to charge the wolf yet again.

"Josmael!" Instinct possessed Mithra. She readied her bow and lept off of her left leg into the road, putting herself between the massive herbivore and her da'fen.

She kneeled and aimed just as the beast hit its third stride into its charge.

Within two heartbeats, she let her arrow fly straight at the enraged creature's skull. She watched the arrow spin rapidly in the air, sailing directly for its target.

Her arrow bit deep, burying itself between its eyes. In another heartbeat, its eyes grew dull and sleepy, but its legs were still moving, carried by the lumbering beast's momentum.

Mithra heard someone yell beside her. She tried to leap out of the creature's path; her leg protested with angry spasming, utterly refusing to move her.

She watched its head begin to droop, closed her eyes, and braced for impact.

She was violently jerked to one side before the beast fell on its chin. The ground gave way under its bulk like a plow; rocks, snow, and mud flung everywhere in its wake. She watched it slide along its path until it finally halted five paces past where she had been.

Someone held her tight to their chest, cradled her head, and breathed hard in horror.

Mithra was in a daze with her eyes only half-open; it had all happened so fast. She turned to face her rescuer.

His eyes were wide with terror, and his mouth moved with speech, but she couldn't hear his words.

Mithra's brow furrowed while trying to listen. Her lulled state lasted only a moment longer. She realized who had her and her body turned to stone.

She was in Cullen's arms.

Cullen was crouched over her, cradling her as she lay on the ground.

Her eyes snapped wide open as her face twisted in horror, and she dug her heels into the earth. Traitorous limb be damned, she choked out a scream and scurried backward while dragging her bastard leg with her.

Cullen hadn't moved. He crouched there, staring at her, his panic turned to sorrow.

Solas lept to his side and helped him stand while praising his quick response.

Solas turned and crouched beside Mithra while handing her staff to her. "Da'len, are you hurt?"

She looked up at him in her shock. "No...no, I'm unharmed."

She turned a sorrowful look to the Cullen. She had hurt him deeply. He may have been a templar, but he had just saved her life.

Mithra remembered then who had put her in that position. Her face hardened in anger as she lifted herself off the ground. "_Josmael!_" she howled in her best, "you're in deep trouble," mom tone.

The overgrown wolf was hiding behind a nearby tent. He poked his head out at hearing his name with his head bowed in shame.

"Garas!" Mithra barked.

He slunk out as slow as he could move.

"Now!" She roared, and he jumped toward her with his tail between his legs.

Josmael lay at her feet, honey eyes gleaming up at her, begging for mercy.

"What in the world were you thinking?! A druffalo?!" She growled.

His gaze shifted around and returned to her before his tail beat on the ground a few times.

"Fun? You thought it would be fun to get run down by a druffalo? Are you serious?!"

The wolf whined, and belly crawled a little closer, asking for forgiveness with his eyes.

"Don't give me that! I almost got smeared into the dirt!"

He rolled over and whined some more, tail thumping the ground steadily.

"Ugh! You're impossible. I should have gotten a cat!"

She rubbed her forehead while he rolled back onto his belly and sneezed a few times at her insult.

Cullen and Solas watched their exchange in amused wonder. Both chuckled heartily at the cat comment.

Mithra crouched before him, easing herself down with her staff. "What am I going to do with you, 'Ma'da'fen?" she asked while rubbing her temples with her fingertips.

He sat before her now and nosed his way into a cuddle. She stroked him halfheartedly, still pissed but calming down. He nudged closer, tucking his head to her chest, then pushed.

She landed on her back with an 'oof,' and he plopped on top of her. His ribs and head lay askew on her chest and torso with his legs off to the side.

"Really...?" She groaned in an unimpressed tone.

He made a sound somewhere between a whine and a growl and nosed her neck.

"Ugh.."

He licked her chin with a quick little flick of his tongue.

"You're awful...you know that, yes?"

He made his noise again, amused with himself, and rapidly sniffed her ear.

Mithra's face bloomed into a smile, and she wriggled while tucking her head into her shoulder. "Knock it off!" she demanded through her giggles while trying to block his nose with her hands.

He kept it up for a moment longer, hoping to quell her irritation completely.

When he finally stopped, she ruffled his neck fondly. "You, sir, are a shit."

They lay there for a while longer, unaware of their audience and frankly, didn't care if they had one. The pair sighed in unison and sat up. All was well between them again.

Mithra noticed Solas and Cullen watching her and Josmael with bemused expressions.

"What?" She asked suspiciously.

Solas smirked and shook his head. "Nothing at all. Just enjoying the sights."

She rolled her eyes and grinned abashedly. "A girl and her dog can't fight and make up?" Both men chuckled.

Mithra stood and faced Cullen then, remembering the pain she had caused him moments ago.

"I'm sorry..for the way I reacted. Instinct drove me through the whole thing and... Thank you..for pulling me out of there. If you hadn't..." She trailed off, unable to continue due to a lump forming in her throat.

"It was my honor, Lady Mithra." Cullen offered a gentle grin and a slight bow, then went back to his training exercise.

Solas regarded her curiously. "Shall we heal your leg the rest of the way, Da'len? I think it's close enough to finish by now."

"Yes, please. If Josmael antagonizes another druffalo, I'd like to be able to avoid another incident." She groaned. Mithra was beyond tired of being injured, hobbling around, and unable to play with her furry family.

They took their places back on the wall, and she presented her leg to him.

He rubbed her leg with gentle firmness and magic tingling in his touch, looking for any lingering damage. "It should work like nothing ever happened." He offered cheerfully before getting to work.

She smiled softly as she watched him. "Thank you for all you have done for me, Hahren. I owe you much for your care."

"You owe me nothing, Da'len. It is my duty to help."

* * *

They gathered in the war room, and the next round of questions was about to get underway. Leliana had taken the time to compose a list, which she now had before her on the table.

"Who did you come to the Conclave with?" Leliana asked pointedly.

"An old friend and her mercenary company."

"Why were they at the Conclave?" Josephine quizzed.

Mithra laughed lightly, remembering the silly little man they were hired to protect. "To guard a Marcher noble that nobody would have bothered to harm anyway."

"I'm sensing a story..." Varric poked.

Mithra smiled wide. "I'll tell it if you like. It's kinda funny...but I'd rather tell the whole story. Over drinks later, perhaps?" She glanced around the room, inviting all present.

Cullen smirked. He disliked nobles, any story with them looking like idiots was a good one in his book. He asked, "Are you a mage?"

"Solas and I were actually discussing that earlier, before the druffalo incident. I never got to discuss it with him fully." She ruffled the fur on Josmael's head.

The wolf sneezed in response.

"No, I'm not a mage. My...ability doesn't come from the Fade like a mage's. Solas tells me I didn't draw from it last night, and that's confirmation enough for me."

"Then what are you?" Cassandra asked.

Mithra pursed her lips then grinned. "I don't recall you being part of our game, Seeker, but I like you, so I'll answer as best I can. I'm what some call a Ranger. One with the ability to call upon the beasts of the land to do their bidding. Some rangers have other abilities in addition to the trademark, and I have one such extra gift: to enchant or charge ironbark," She held up her whistle to show them.

"I was wondering what it was made of.." Cullen murmured.

"It is a rare wood that can only be harvested when the bark has shed from the tree. It's as strong as steel but weighs far less. Useful, strong, and light, but difficult to shape."

"And you can shape it.." Varric pointed out, remembering the bundle of bows he'd handled the night before.

"Yes, but that has little to do with my ranger ability," Mithra admitted before grinning at Leliana. "Looks like you got some bonus material today, Spymaster."

"I did, indeed." Leliana smiled wide, pleased at her unintended triumph. "Now, to business. There is an...interesting development. My spies tell me that the people have given you a name."

Mithra's eyes twinkled with amusement. It wasn't the first time.

Josephine picked up where Leliana left off, "They're calling you "The Herald of Andraste."

Humor abandoned Mithra's face at that. "Are you _fucking_ serious?!"

The ambassador blanched.

"People saw a woman behind you when you came out of that rift. They believe it was Andraste," Cassandra added.

Mithra paced in a tight circle while rubbing her face. "An elf...no, a _wild_ elf..and they call me The Herald of the Chantry prophet?! Please tell me you're joking!"

They looked at her, stunned, and slightly confused.

"Why are you so upset over this? You should be honored," Cassandra rebuked.

Mithra regarded her for a moment. "So if I started calling you "The Hand of Falon'din" or "The Spear of Andruil," you'd be perfectly ok with it? Such a title would honor you?"

Cassandra blinked, realizing for the first time that they had different religious views. "I see..."

"Do you? It's a slap to the face, that's what this is. Do they even know I'm an elf? If they don't, what will they do when they find out?" Mithra fumed and leaned on the table. "This will bring nothing but trouble... People will form a cult. The Chantry will try for my head.. Elves across Thedas will become even more of a target. Shiiiitt.."

She heaved a sigh to calm herself as she stood again. "The Chantry's response?"

Josephine said, "They've declared it blasphemy, and **we** heretics for harboring you."

"Of course they have..." Mithra groaned while pinching the bridge of her nose.

"And they're telling everyone that you'll make the Breach worse," Leliana interjected.

Cassandra chimed in. "Chancellor Roderick must be behind that one."

"So, what can we do about it?" Mithra looked to each before meeting Leliana's contemplative gaze.

"A Chantry cleric by the name of Mother Giselle has asked to speak with you; she's in the Hinterlands."

Mithra looked at her doubtfully. "An ambush? It seems a little obvious of the Chantry to have one of their own try to lure me out."

"I doubt that's what she has in mind. From what I hear, she's a kind soul that avoids violence. She's been helping the refugees outside of Redcliffe."

Mithra furrowed her brow thoughtfully. "A woman helping people in need? Alright, I'll speak with her then."

Cullen spoke up. "While your there, see if you can expand the Inquisition's influence. Putting a stop to the Mage-Templar fighting in that region would be a good start."

She glanced at Solas over her shoulder with a smile. "A good thing you finished mending my leg this morning, Hahren."

The apostate nodded. "Indeed. Though I'm not certain you're battle-ready just yet."

"I'm fairly certain I am. 'Ma serranas once again."

"One other thing," Cullen started.

Mithra looked at him, violet eyes locking with soft brown ones.

He faltered, then blinked to gather himself. "There's a horse master in the farmlands to the west of that area. We've been trying to contact him to obtain better mounts for the soldiers, but with no luck. Would you check on the situation?"

Mithra nodded and offered a sweet smile. "Ma nuvenin, Commander. How could I refuse?"

* * *

Mithra made her preparations in her cabin. She dressed in the traditional Dalish scout armor, buckling, slipping, and strapping. She had made modifications to the leathers of her set: Ironbark splints lined it throughout, adding extra protection without hindering her movement.

Josmael's armor was reinforced the same way, a leather jacket that covered his neck and torso.

She picked out her best weaponry and slipped three throwing knives on each thigh.

Mithra fished in her bag of crafts and discovered a large kite shield she'd finished months before. "Perfect."

She spied a small ironbark trinket she had carved some time ago and slipped it into a supply pouch.

Mithra threw on her cloak to keep the cold at bay and gathered a bundle of leather straps, draping them around her shoulders.

She and Josmael were ready at last and left the cabin. She walked with purpose, and he wagged as he loped beside her.

* * *

They approached the training grounds, looking for Cassandra.

Cullen noticed their approach, and his brows went up. "Is he wearing...armor?"

Mithra stopped roughly ten paces from him. "Absolutely. I'm not taking him into a war zone unprepared."

"May I see?" he asked with curiosity playing on his features.

She gestured for Josmael to approach him with a nod of her head, and the wolf loped forward lazily.

He watched the commander closely, but stayed still; they both had trust issues when it came to Templars.

Cullen inspected the armor with delight. "This is impressive work; it's like he's wearing a second skin."

Mithra smiled softly at the compliment. "Thank you. Have you seen Cassandra? I have something for her."

"She went to the armory to see if her new sword was ready yet. She should return momentarily," Cullen informed while tracing his fingers over the wolf's leather armor. "What are the splints inside made of?"

"Ironbark, of course." Mithra reached into a pouch on her supply belt. "Speaking of, I have something for you."

She stepped close to Cullen and trembled at the proximity.

Josmael leaned on her and whined. _"I'm right here, sis."_

Mithra nodded and raised her gaze to Cullen, who almost looked startled by how closely she stood.

She presented the necklace, and he held out his hand, palm up, waiting for her to deposit it.

Mithra chewed her lip and went for it. The token pressed gently between her fingertips and his palm. She breathed in relief when her hand came away intact, and she held her position.

A grin crept slowly across Cullen's handsome face.

Abashedly, she looked away and grumbled, "Don't read too much into it, Templar. I'm working to adjust to your presence. Josmael lends me the courage to face my fears."

The commander's grin faded, and his eyes fell to the trinket. He held a pendant the size of a coin, carved in the Ferelden style. "A bear paw?"

Nervously, she nodded and responded, "Your coat. It reminds me of a bear. But your presence is like...touching a high dragon."

Cullen looked back up at her with sadness seeping into his eyes.

The ranger gestured to the trinket and quickly said, "It's yours. In thanks for my life."

His grin returned. "Thank you. I appreciate the gesture." He examined the detail in the carving before noticing the material. "Is this ironbark as well? It's so smooth..."

Mithra nodded with a weak smile and took two steps back. "It's my favorite material to work with."

Cassandra strutted toward them. "I'm ready to depart. Are you prepared?"

"Very nearly. I need to harness the girls for riding and bridle Sulara for Solas. Speaking of.." Mithra raised her whistle then called through it.

Both girls answered immediately. "They'll be here in a moment."

"No saddles?" Cullen asked bluntly.

Mithra shook her head. "Nope. They're bulky, heavy, and get in the way."

"In the way?" Cassandra asked in evident confusion.

Mithra laughed softly. "You'll see eventually, I'm sure. Oh! It almost slipped my mind. This is for you.. in thanks for the cloak." She presented the shield to Cassandra, who looked at it with a weird face. "What..? It's ironbark. The best wood in the world."

Cassandra looked doubtful as she took it. "It is too light. It will be shattered."

Mithra's wicked little grin crawled across her face. "Would you like to test that theory, Seeker? This beast is made from three sheets of ironbark. It's practically indestructible."

Cassandra wasn't convinced, and her face reflected it.

"Tell you what..let me get the girls ready, and we can spar before we depart. I need a little warm-up to get the blood flowing and to see if my leg is up for battle anyway."

"Sounds good. Maybe I'll get my revenge in the process." Cassandra teased.

The ranger winced. "Yeah... Sorry about that. For what it's worth, you weren't my intended target."

Sulara and Danyla came thundering up and slowed to a stop when they reached her.

"Glad to see you in high spirits today, Ladies. We're hitting the road in a bit," Mithra announced while patting their necks.

The ranger looked around nervously as a crowd gathered. "What's going on...?"

Varric approached with a voice full of amusement. "A little bird came by saying something about a rematch between you two. I couldn't miss this."

Mithra eyed him with obvious discomfort. "Did you have to tell everyone else? You know crowds make me uneasy."

"Sorry, Starshine. I can't help what people hear."

"Wonderful..." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to put the crowd out of her mind. When she calmed, the ranger looked to Cassandra. "Shall we dance, Lady Seeker?" she offered while removing her cloak for their fight.

* * *

Mithra and the Seeker faced each other between the training grounds and the smithy. The ranger wielded the oak staff she'd been using for walking. Cassandra, with a blunt training sword and the ironbark shield.

The crowd was hushed as they took their fighting stances and circled, sizing each other up and searching for weaknesses.

The seeker lunged with a roar; Mithra spun to dodge her charge and knocked the backplate of her armor with her staff as she passed.

Cassandra pivoted to face her again.

Mithra spied the seeker over her shoulder and spun into her attack, a swift flurry of jabs and swings. Cassandra blocked and dodged most of them, but received a few knocks on her sword arm.

The seeker countered with her volley. Mithra turned her blade to the ground with each swing and spun away from jabs.

They paused and circled again, now having a feel for each other.

Their attacks resumed swiftly; Cassandra slashing and parrying while Mithra spun, ducked, jabbed, and deflected.

The crowd looked on in wonder as the ever-fierce seeker, and this graceful little elf woman danced across the yard: twirling, jabbing, gliding, and bashing.

Mithra crouched, dashed toward the seeker, and knocked the shield upward to gain an opening. She dropped into a low spin as she came to Cassandra's side and followed through with a swing to the ribs.

The seeker countered with a wide arc at her opponent as soon as she recovered.

The ranger rolled to dodge and crouched again, waiting with the staff extended behind her.

Cassandra approached cautiously; focused on her opponent while trying to guess her next move.

Mithra eyed her, waiting for her to get in range of the attack she had planned.

_One... two..._ Mithra lept high in the air with a hard spin, bringing the staff down toward Cassandra's head.

The seeker instinctively raised her shield; the staff shattered on impact, sending splinters flying around them. The crowd raised their arms to shield themselves from the sparse debris that floated their way. Mithra's grin was wicked as bits of wood fluttered around her, enthralled with their match.

Cassandra hadn't yet realized what happened. She was expecting a whopper of a hit but had barely felt anything through the shield.

The ranger smiled wide and bowed in defeat. "Well fought, Seeker. You win this round; I'm now unarmed."

Cassandra peered around, spotting the obliterated staff at her feet and the ring of splinters surrounding her. She inspected the shield with wide eyes. "Not even a dent!"

Mithra laughed at her bewilderment. "That oak staff never stood a chance against the beast on your arm."

The crowd stood around, murmuring amongst themselves excitedly.

Varric approached. "Nice! Worth gathering the crowd."

The ranger gave him a hard look while donning her cloak and raising its hood to hide her eyes from the spectators. "So it _was_ you.."

"Of course! I never miss a chance to gather an audience. Speaking of which, you promised us a story before we head out. Drinks are on me," the dwarf announced before heading for the tavern.


	9. The Hinterlands, Part 1

They reached the Hinterlands in a couple of days and were met by the cutest little dwarf girl Mithra had ever met.

"Herald of Andraste.. Inquisition Scout Harding, at your service. I've heard the stories. Everyone has. It's odd for a Dalish elf to care what happens to anyone else, but you'll get no backtalk here. That's a promise."

The ranger looked annoyed. "Just call me Mithra... I'm no herald of anything."

"I don't think that would be appropriate, Herald," Harding said awkwardly.

Varric huffed. "Harding, huh? You ever been to Kirkwall's Hightown?"

"I can't say that I have. Why?"

"You'd be Harding in.. Ah..nevermind."

Cassandra grunted in disgust.

With that out of the way, Harding filled them in as best she could, warning that the fighting was spreading toward the area the refugees were camped in.

"Let's get going," Mithra said with a smile. "Thanks, Harding."

They hurried downhill toward a tiny settlement on foot, leaving the mounts to recover from the long trip to the region.

Once there, Mithra's instincts were set on fire.

Templars stormed the area, apparently resuming their attack on what they claimed were "mage sympathizers," judging by their war cries. Their victims were simple farmers and refugees; there was no call for this shit.

The team lept into action.

Mithra didn't even hesitate to dash in and get her blades bloodied. She'd discarded the pathetic knives she'd found on the way to the temple and replaced them with some of her own making; white halla-horn daggers sharpened to a wicked edge. They sliced the very air as she whipped into the fray, blood spraying as they caressed her targets.

Mithra was finishing off her fifth one while another charged at her side. He was met with a stone fist spell to the face, splaying him on the ground.

She lunged atop her downed attacker, and metal screamed as her daggers sundered the barrier of the templar's plate.

"Ma serranas!" she sang cheerfully to Solas as she darted toward her next victim.

Crossbow bolts whizzed by, stopping templars dead in their tracks.

"Save some for me, Durgen'len!" Mithra groused at Varric.

"Be quicker, Starshine! Bianca waits for no one!"

Soon, mages joined the bloodbath from the other side of the area. Solas called for them to stop, but Mithra already had her sylvanwood bow out, knowing that they'd do no such thing.

These mages were out for blood, taking their revenge for centuries of imprisonment from the common folk. They didn't care. The ranger had tangled with both sides numerous times in the past. Neither took prisoners, and she took no chances.

She loosed three arrows at a time into mage robes. They went down far faster than templars, but she didn't mind. The faster both sides were dealt with, the better it would be for the farmers and refugees.

When the dust finally settled, Mithra called with a smile in her voice, "How's that shield feel, Seeker?!"

While drawing near, Cassandra answered, "It's...strange. It's so light, it feels like I'm using a buckler. But it's amazing. I'm not tired, and my arm isn't sore from absorbing blows."

Mithra laughed cheerfully at her admission. "Best wood in the world." She turned her attention to a house surrounded by the injured. Sure enough, there was that silly hat Chantry Mothers wore. Mithra ascended the stairs cautiously with Josmael at her side until she signaled him to wait.

The ranger met with Mother Giselle, who told her that the Revered Mothers in Val Royeaux were simply making a political move, trying to grasp at power to increase their chances of becoming the new Divine.

Mithra sighed and rolled her eyes. "What is it with Orlesians and power grabs? The worthy should hold power, not these underhanded backbiters.. Orlesians...to the void with them all."

The Mother looked at her coolly, seeming to agree on some level. "You should meet with them, show them that you are no monster to be feared."

Mithra doubled over laughing. "You think_ I_ should stroll into the _Orlesian_ capital and say, "Hi, I'm the Dalish elf that has a growing cult following! Nice to meet you! Please don't kill me?" Brilliant plan."

Mother Giselle prattled on about hope, signs from the heavens, and a bunch of other silly bullshit until she got to the point at last. "If you don't address it, it will embolden them to take further action against you."

Mithra pursed her lips in thought. "Maybe. But they can't mess with me if they can't find me."

"Are you not with the Inquisition? They can find you."

Shit, she had a point. "Until the hole in the sky is sealed, at least.." Mithra paused for a long moment, considering her options. "Fine...I'll see what can be done about it. I don't want one of them on that silly throne anyway."

"Then I will go to Haven and help Sister Leliana arrange a meeting. It isn't much, but it's what I can do," Mother Giselle pledged, and set off for Haven.

* * *

At Cassandra's suggestion, they met with Corporal Vale. They gathered some info from him and set off to hunt some rams and supply caches for the war victims.

As they trudged uphill, Solas asked, "Did you believe the Conclave could achieve peace, Cassandra?"

"I had hope. As did we all," she answered.

Solas contended, "The Templars went to war to force mages back into their circles, which the mages would never agree to. What solution could Divine Justinia have offered when all sides rejected compromise?"

As they reached the top of the hill, Cassandra said, "The war was going nowhere for either side. That they went at all showed that they realized this."

"Or they believed that the other side would relent," Solas argued.

"We shall never know now," the seeker admitted as they approached the rift by a nearby house.

When Mithra came in range, the rift burst open; its sickly green glow illuminating the area. A vision of memory played out before the party, as it had at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, only it was clearer somehow, sharper, the colors more vibrant than life.

* * *

** Two young elven girls, aged thirteen and sixteen, sat astride an ashen hart while overlooking the valley. One had long, blond curls that loosely framed her face; the bulk wrangled into a bedraggled braid. Her blue eyes gazed at the scenery, and a smile played at her lips. **

** The younger had straight silvery hair, also braided long in the back. Her slightly grown-out bangs covered one of her pale purple eyes. She blew them away and peeked over the other's shoulder, gasping in wonder at the sight before them. **

**"Where are we going, Asa'ma'lin?" little Mithra asked, lilac eyes shifting to the side of the other girl's face. **

**The older raised her arm and pointed toward the sunset. "As far that way as we can go." **

* * *

The vision faded, and all eyes turned to Mithra.

With tears welling in her eyes and a hand clamped firmly over her gaping mouth, she stood mute and paralyzed.

The demons materialized before they could even draw breath, and all turned to engage the creatures.

It took Mithra a small portion of the fight to rejoin reality. When she finally did, she charged into the fray with tears floating off her cheeks, and her face twisted in a snarl.

* * *

They had made camp in the shadow of an old tower when night fell.

Josmael snarled at them as they tried to intrude the tower, pacing back and forth just beyond the doorway.

Cassandra had come too close and called to the shaken elf, trying to coax answers from her.

Josmael gave her a firmer warning of teeth snapping shut in her direction.

Mithra sat hunched in the half-decayed tower, still reeling from the vision the rift had displayed. How was it possible? Why..? She couldn't do this.. She couldn't see that again.

"Let her work it out, Seeker," Varric suggested gently.

Cassandra peered at her in the dark tower, barely making out the elf's form. She sighed a moment later and returned to the fire before the tents.

"What did we see, Solas?" she asked once she sat.

He was crouched across from her, staring into the blaze. "A memory. They litter the Fade. Shape it. I imagine the rift reacted to her presence and triggered the memory we witnessed. One she obviously didn't want to see, or perhaps didn't want to share," he explained in his matter of fact tone.

"Will this happen often?"

He seemed to think for a moment. "Probably. Memories are tied to people and places. If there is a rift in an area she has visited, we will likely see more."

* * *

They tackled the eastern area of the Hinterlands the next day. Not a word was spoken. They didn't talk of the rifts, make small talk, and above all else, didn't ask Mithra any questions. Even Varric was deathly quiet, which was highly unusual and downright excruciating for the chatty dwarf.

They discovered the cult in the fortress to the north. Mithra was in no mood to put up with deranged zealots and let Cassandra handle them. They finished all their business in the area by midday.

Mithra threw herself violently into battle every time she spotted a mage or templar. She wanted blood for all of it: the Breach, the conclave, the war, and the memory that she would eventually have to face.

It frightened Cassandra to see how recklessly the tiny elvhen woman engaged her targets, but she said nothing.

Josmael grew worried for her too and wouldn't leave her side, refusing to scout ahead.

They found missives on a few bodies, pointing the way to the headquarters of each faction.

Mithra was chomping at the bit to smear them across the countryside. This never would have happened if they hadn't done this shit... She sneered at the green light staining her hand, then gritted her teeth and clenched her fists as she stomped forward. She would kill every one of these felasil'an for what they've caused.

* * *

They came upon the mages in Witchwood first. Mithra didn't hesitate to charge in; daggers flashing in the early afternoon sun.

Templars charged in just as Mithra finished the last mage outside of their cave. They were headed straight for Solas, and she was the first to notice.

"Solas! Duck!" she yelled before she flicked a dagger at one closing in on him.

The mage kneeled on command, and her dagger found its target. Blood showered him as the blade bit into the face of his assailant.

Mithra's grin was sinister while the templar screamed and fell to his knees.

She brandished her bow and began punching holes in leather between armor, littering their bodies with arrow shafts and fletching, her face locked in a fierce grin all the while.

They finished the last of them quickly, and Solas obliterated the barrier of the cave where the mages were hiding. The crew charged in and made a mess of them with no complications.

"The templars should be camped to the west, near the river, if these missives are any clue," Mithra announced after picking through pockets. She raised herself from the ground and started for them. "Let's move."

* * *

They neared the templar camp late in the afternoon.

"There they are," Mithra said as the party kneeled behind a massive boulder. "I can take out the guard on the left, but I can't get a clean shot on the other. Varric, can you get a clear shot on the one on the right?"

He grumbled and shook his head. The one in question stayed toward the back, Varric could barely see him as it was.

She turned to the rest. "Alright, we'll wing it. Are we ready?"

Everyone nodded.

She aimed and fired. The second target charged, and Cassandra engaged him.

Templars steadily swarmed the area. Varric and Mithra provided cover fire while Solas froze enemies solid for the seeker to shatter.

When the last one fell, Mithra chirped, "That seems to be all of them."

Varric and Cassandra looked for any further information on templar base locations. Josmael searched a short way ahead to make sure all were dead. And Solas took a rest, his mana getting low from the fighting they had done that day.

From behind, a templar wrapped one arm around Mithra's chest and held a knife to her throat.

Her eyes went wide for a moment, then she relaxed into a cold, uncaring stare.

Josmael whipped around with a fierce snarl but knew he could make no move without her getting killed.

Solas noticed her predicament then, and his gaze went icy, calculating his options. He couldn't kill him without hitting her.

Everyone froze, terrified for the elf rendered helpless by the sneaky asshole.

The templar's hand trembled. "Drop your weapons, or the knife-eared bitch dies."

Mithra lifted a brow and grinned at the waver in his voice. "Why kill me when I'm so much more fun alive?" she purred while pressing her ass into him.

Cassandra and Varric gaped. No way was Mithra going to offer a templar sex to get out of this.

"Poor thing... You're so stressed. You need a little fun." She bowed her back and slowly ground her hips.

"Don't tempt me, bitch! I will kill you!"

Just as the templar's grip tightened on the knife, her hand quickly swept up beside her head.

None had noticed her hand sliding over the knives she kept on her thigh. She'd slipped one out as she leaned into the idiot. He now choked on his own blood and crumpled in a heap behind her.

"Dumbshit," she spat before gathering her blades and arrows from the surrounding corpses.

Josmael hurried to her side, whining and groaning with concern.

She ruffled his face fondly and gave him a hug. "I'm alright, Da'fen. He didn't hurt me."

The rest of the party just stood in awkward silence. Solas couldn't look at her, his face and ears still on fire. Cassandra was as pale as can be, and Varric had found it both genius and disquieting.

"You've taken lessons from Isabella, haven't you?" the dwarf teased.

Mithra gave him a confused look. "Who's Isabella?"

He sighed a "Never mind..." and wobbled away to sit.

Her expression hardened. "What? I do what I must to survive."

Varric responded, "Starshine...you are full of surprises." He shook his head and laughed nervously.

Mithra crossed her arms and growled, "Look, I've lived alone for most of my life. I'm used to having to handle situations like this."

"You've done that before? With a templar?" Cassandra asked though she didn't really want to know.

"Yeah, it's happened before."

"But you're deathly afraid of templars! How is it you can.." She gestured to the corpse. "Do _that_ with this one, but can't stand to be less than twenty paces from Cullen?"

Mithra snorted. "I'm not _afraid_ of Templars, I _hate_ them. I kill them on sight if I'm able. Cullen is the Commander of the Inquisition. I can't kill _him_ because all of Haven would try to kill _me_. I really am trying to adjust to his presence. I must maintain some physical distance from him during the process." She went back to looting the bodies. "Can we not discuss it further? It had to be done, everyone else's hands were tied in _this_ situation."

"She..has a point," Solas said as his ears returned to their natural shade at last.

* * *

They left the templar encampment and returned to the river. They'd have to wade across to reach the farmlands due to the bridge being destroyed. Vale had said that's where the horse master lived.

Mithra eyed the waterfall up the way. "What I wouldn't give for a bath right now. That templar's touch is still lingering on me.."

The party exchanged glances.

"It will be dark soon. Perhaps we could camp here for the night?" Solas remarked evenly.

The others agreed. They were getting tired and hungry anyway.

Mithra dug through her pack and came away with a bowl. "I'm not passing this opportunity by then. I'll see you in about twenty minutes." She started for the falls with Josmael close behind.


	10. The Hinterlands, Part 2

Once Mithra had concocted her toiletries, she undressed and let her hair loose. After she laid her things on a boulder to keep dry, she walked under the thundering falls to wet her hair. _This was_ her idea of a bath.

She hopped into the pool just before the falls and swam to the bowl on the shore.

Once satisfied with her scrubbing, she swam back toward the falls for a good rinse.

She spied something then. No, someone. They were watching her from the cliffs, tucked behind some brush.

Bandits? Oh shit...

She rinsed her hair and returned to where Josmael lay, napping in the fading sunlight.

"Isa' ma' sal... we aren't alone." She whispered to him as she sat on the shore and grabbed the green cloth of her armor to cover herself.

The wolf raised his head and scanned for the intruder, but saw no one.

"Up." She hinted.

He looked and let a growl rumble from his throat.

"Shh..let me get dressed first." She peeked up to where she had spotted the spy while arranging the mail portion of her armor, trying to slip it on quickly.

Gone.

She started to panic some, eagerly slipped on her mail, and gathered her leathers.

"Let's get back to the others, let them know we have company nearby," Mithra whispered.

* * *

She arrived to find Cassandra and Varric eating some cheese and dried meat, but Solas was nowhere to be found.

"Just in time! Chuckles should return soon. He said he spotted some blackberries on a hill," the dwarf chirped.

"How was your bath?" Cassandra asked..

"Very nice. Refreshing," Mithra said quietly while braiding her wet hair as fast as she could. "I think I saw a bandit, though. They may have a camp nearby. We should move somewhere safer."

Varric just grinned suspiciously.

"Isa'ma'sal, go find Solas. Make sure he's safe." She asked sweetly.

The wolf just grumbled and sat as Solas returned with a small basket of blackberries.

"I found some fresh fruit to add to our meal," he announced in his typical tone.

Varric eyed the basket and looked at Solas, eyes full of suspicion. "Is this all you found, Chuckles?"

Solas blushed slightly and gave the dwarf a level look. "No, Master Tethras. There was plenty more to be found. This was all I _took._"

Josmael grumbled and nosed Mithra's leg.

"What? No...I seriously doubt that." Mithra looked to Solas.

"I'll never understand how he speaks to you like that. You honestly understand everything he seems to say?" Cassandra quizzed, oblivious to what Varric was hinting at.

"The majority of the time, yes. We have our own system of cues to supplement the things I'll never understand in his language." She explained while scratching him absently.

"So, what'd he tell you?" Varric asked with a twinkle in his eye.

"He tells me it wasn't a bandit we saw," Mithra said before glancing at Solas suspiciously.

"You saw someone? Where?" the mage asked coolly.

Mithra grinned at him knowingly. "Upon the hill on the far side of the river, near the falls.." She sat and finished dressing. "So, where'd you find the fruit? I'd love to collect some to eat on the way back. Perhaps I'll gather enough to take another bath with back in Haven."

Solas blushed a little brighter, knowing that she knew. "Nearby. I'll show you before we depart if you like." A little smirk played at his lips.

"Perhaps.." 

They dropped the topic and ate their meager dinner in the fading sunlight. Mithra caught Solas stealing glances at her every now and then. She pretended not to notice, but her occasional smirk let him know that she was aware. Varric caught it too, but smirked to himself and kept his mouth shut.

"You have been to Rivain?" Solas asked.

"I've been to many places," she deflected.

"I understand that people are friendly toward spirits there. Have you met any?"

"I've met Valor, Wisdom, and Joy in my travels. Interesting...folk." Mithra answered cautiously, not sure how the rest of the party felt about the topic. "I'm turning in. We need to see about those horses first thing in the morning," she remarked as she lifted herself from the ground. Quiet feet carried her to her tent. Josmael was on her heels.

* * *

They made their way across the river the next morning. They were walking briskly up the road when a few wolves appeared, ready to attack.

"Odd for them to be so aggressive. Wolves in this small a number always run," Mithra commented while facing off with one of the beasts. She tried her whistle to charm the small hunting pack. "What the...? It's not working!"

"It may be the Breach! Or a demon has control of the pack!" Solas called from his position on a small hill.

"Likely a demon then. The wolves around Haven answered my call the other night. It can't be the Breach," Mithra surmised.

"Good point," Varric said flatly.

Mithra collected the pelts after the battle. It'd be senseless to waste them.

* * *

They reached Dennet's farm only an hour later and had a chat with him about obtaining horses for the Inquisition. They arranged a deal to have the possessed wolves dealt with and watchtowers built in the area before he'd send them through.

So they checked out some suitable locations for the towers. On their way to deal with the wolves, they came across a memory rift. It cracked like thunder as it popped open, and the telltale glow of green filled the air.

* * *

** _"Does it have to be so friggin' wet here?! Mithra complained while sloshing through some red mud and slick grass in the rain._ **

** _Her sister rolled her eyes and smiled. "Do you have to friggin' whine so much?" _ **

** _Mithra paused thoughtfully. _ **

** _Her sister's mouth hung open slightly, and she looked down in shame. "Ir abelas, asa'ma'lin."_ **

** _Mithra looked up at her with wide eyes. "Don't be sorry, Danyla. I'm just grumpy, I had a... difficult sleep." One could tell that she mentally kicked herself for saying it._ **

** _She looped a thin rope around an arrow, preparing to fish._ **

** _Danyla took on a soft tone and asked, "The dreams again?"_ **

** _Mithra could only nod and pretend to focus on her rope. She notched her arrow and began looking for fish in the river._ **

** _"It wasn't your fault..." Danyla said, trying to comfort her little sister._ **

** _Mithra pretended to concentrate on fishing, staying silent. The younger elf finally spotted a big one. She drew her arrow, took aim, angled down just slightly, and waited for the fish to enter her target area._ **

** _The fish splashed angrily as she wound the cord around her hand to reel it in. "We've been over this countless times. I'm not ashamed of my actions that night. That guy had to die. It was him or us. I just wish we hadn't been too late to save...them."_ **

** _She pulled her fish to shore and lifted it by it's lower lip. "It looked fatter underwater." Mithra smiled weakly in an attempt to cheer up. She looked to Danyla while holding up the fish._ **

** _Her sister was looking down and away, stray strands of her curly blond hair clinging to her face in the dull drizzle._ **

** _"Look, if you hadn't held me back, he'd have pounced on me, and you wouldn't have this marvelous fish for breakfast," she said playfully._ **

** _Dani didn't cheer up, to her dismay._ **

** _Mithra went back to serious mode. "I was in a position to get that bastard, you weren't. We can't help that. We need to just move on." She sat with a slight huff and began cleaning the fish in obvious irritation._ **

** _Dani finally broke the silence. "I know...I guess we had each other's backs that day."_ **

**_Mithra grinned. "And every day since!"_ **

** _Dani wiggled out of her funk, at last, took aim, and speared a whopper of a salmon. "Looks like I win this round!" she cajoled in her victory as she wrangled the fish from the river._ **

** _Mithra slopped some mud in her direction. "Uh-huh... but I still have you by five." She smirked as she washed away the mud clinging to her fingers in the quiet river._ **

** _Dani plopped next to her sister and began cleaning her prize, remarking on how much bigger and fatter her catch was._ **

** _Mithra just tipped her over by her elbow and grinned menacingly as Danyla flailed to keep her balance._ **

** _"Brat."_ **

** _"Halla butt."_ **

** _They jousted back and forth for a few minutes longer._ **

**_Mithra ran out of silly insults, but she wouldn't admit defeat. Instead, she put a hand to her chest, dropped her mouth open, and in mock horror, said, "How could you wound your own flesh and blood in such a way?!"_ **

** _Both just laughed and got up, taking their breakfast somewhere drier to cook._ **

* * *

Mithra watched the memory with tears in her eyes and a ghost of a smile on her lips. She remembered that time.

She came back to reality all at once, a shade wriggling its way toward her.

They handled the demons quickly, and all stood silent, hoping Mithra wasn't going to have another breakdown. She just walked away and murmured, "We have a wolf pack to wrangle. Let's move."

* * *

They found the wolves and killed the demon. Once it was dead, Mithra tried the whistle again. Success. The wolves were hers to command if she wished.

"Good to know." Varric grinned.

"A possible scouting party for another time." Mithra smiled.

"So...what's the deal?" Varric started as they made their way out of the wolf den.

"With what?" Mithra quizzed.

"The rifts...the memories. The first one really upset you, but it was almost nothing. The second was a lot longer and more entertaining, but you aren't breaking down this time. What gives?"

Mithra stopped and looked to the sky. "It was the shock of finding out the rifts would do that. It pissed me off. If you haven't noticed, I'm a pretty private person. There are things I don't want people to see and things I don't want to see again." She paused and sighed. "But, we are going to see them, and there's nothing I can do about it. I have to accept it when it happens, or I'll...become something I don't want anyone to see."

Cassandra paled. "Don't tell me you can...become a wolf?"

Mithra burst out in laughter. "Nooo, Seeker. Though many Nevarrans have said that about me. I'm an elf and always will be. I meant metaphorically. You think seeing me pissed yesterday was bad? You haven't seen anything yet."

Cassandra and Solas exchanged worried glances.

"What do you mean by "Many Nevarrans have said that about you "..?" Cassandra asked cautiously.

Mithra stopped, realizing she had said too much. She turned to face her companions. "You promise to keep it out of your reports? Not to say anything to Leliana?"

They looked at her with suspicion and curiosity. Cassandra crossed her arms.

"It would ruin our game..in a way. I'd like to keep it going," Mithra explained.

Cassandra nodded hesitantly, Solas stood, stoic as ever, and Varric grinned, loving the idea.

"The rift memories too?" Mithra coaxed.

Cassandra barked, "Yes! Out with it!"

"Do you know the legend of Fenjosi, Seeker?" Mithra asked with a cat-like grin.

"I've heard a story or two, though not directly from my countrymen."

Mithra picked some dirt from her fingernails. "Well...my name in Nevarra **is** Fenjosi. The myth is based on me, started by a hostile Dalish clan in the southern area of Nevarra."

Cassandra looked both doubtful and amazed, Mithra didn't think such an expression was possible before now.

She laughed and explained, "The myth is complete garbage, of course. I find them hilarious, personally. The clan was fearful of Josmael and didn't want us around. Called us "Spawn of Fen'Harel".."

Solas winced slightly.

"They began telling wild tales about us, frightening others so they wouldn't do business with me or would chase me off. The Dalish that traded with human settlements spread those tales just to tell a good story. It grew way out of proportion from there. The humans don't know me from a servant, so I never had trouble trading in towns. But I get to hear a lot of versions of myself, depending on where I am."

"You have different names in different places?" Solas asked, his curiosity piqued.

Mithra smirked and nodded. "I have six names throughout Thedas. You now know two of them." She eyed him with a mischievous grin. "Not all of them are linked to tales as bad as Fenjosi's though. I'm something of a ghost in Rivain and a hero in parts of the Free Marches. Well...I suppose you could consider me a ghost in all lands since no one **sees** me as any of them."

"So, what are the rest of your names?" Varric asked, taking mental notes for his own stories.

"Uh-uh, durgen'len. That would spoil all of **our** fun," Mithra teased with a wry grin. "Let's get back to Haven. We need to get people out here to build those towers."

They took a roundabout route back to the main camp to mount up but ran into yet another rift.

"Here we go..." Mithra sighed, annoyed that her childhood was on display.

* * *

** _Both girls stopped dead in their tracks as they rounded the corner. A clan had moved into the area, their aravels nestled close together._ **

** _"When did...?" Mithra couldn't help but laugh. "Quiet as ever."_ **

** _Dani grinned at her in response. "Shall we greet our new temporary neighbors?"_ **

** _The young ranger thought for a moment. "Breakfast first, they'll want time to settle in and get comfortable."_ **

** _"Or we could bring them some breakfast, at least for the Keeper."_ **

** _Mithra rolled her eyes. "Always so considerate. ...Alright, but only for the Keeper, the two of us can't feed a whole clan."_ **

** _As they turned back toward the river, a massive grey hart came ambling up._ **

** _"Sulara! Good morning, sweetheart!" Dani beamed as she patted the beast's neck._ **

** _Mithra smiled and gave her a pat as well. "Morning, Sul."_ **

** _The hart pricked her ears, then laid them back and shook her head, obviously irritated at the soaking drizzle._ **

** _"That makes two of us. I hope the rain stops soon." The ranger grumbled._ **

** _"The one with the most fish wins!" Danyla cheered while scurrying back to the riverside._ **

** _Mithra was close behind, already getting her arrows set with thin ropes. "Oh, you're going down! Prepare to wash your fish down with tears of defeat!" She let out a mock evil laugh._ **

* * *

** _"Mithra - 18, Danyla - 16! How do those tears taste, sis? Oh! This means I have you by 7 now!"_ **

** _Dani stuck her tongue out and smiled. "So much for not being able to feed the whole clan."_ **

* * *

Everyone couldn't help but smile at Mithra during the memory. It had been a fun one to witness.

She just crossed her arms and grumbled.

Then the rift popped again, and a swarm of demons attacked.

* * *

"You were so cute!" Cassandra cheered with a wide smile.

"Yeah, yeah... I'll remember you said that when we spar again, Seeker." Mithra poked back.

"You were fun! When did you turn into just another broody elf?" Varric teased.

The ranger stayed silent, her face growing stormy.

"Like that! Brood, brood, brood."

"I'm not always "broody." Remember the story I told before we came here? And it's not up for discussion...ever," Mithra warned. Shit… She hoped they wouldn't have to visit that place. "Let's just... Get back to Haven. And try to avoid rifts on the way. This is getting annoying fast..." She grumbled as they neared the main camp where the mounts waited.

* * *

They discussed many things on the way back to Haven. Cassandra discussed her estranged family, her time as the Right Hand, and her Seeker career. Solas chatted about the Fade, spirits, and Elvhen culture, both present and ancient. And Varric talked about his writing career and red lyrium.

Mithra schooled Solas on Sulara and Danyla's riding cues, teaching him both their voice commands and leg pressure cues.

By the time they reached Haven, he no longer needed the bridle, and Sulara was pleased to be free of the leather straps on her face. There was a bounce in her step again.

"It's remarkable how well trained she is. Is it difficult to teach them to ride like this?" Solas asked.

"Not really. Once they have basic training with a bridle, it's a simple thing to start training for this. It's more time consuming than difficult," Mithra explained cheerfully.

"I'd like to see you train sometime. But why not use your power to train?" Solas asked, seeming to be truly interested.

"Perhaps one day. .she's getting old. I fear she won't be around much longer, and I'll need to find a replacement when her time comes." Mithra glanced back at the elderly grey hart with a sad smile. "As for the power use, they don't really learn if I use it, and you wouldn't be sitting on her right now. I'd have to sustain the charm, which does get tiring after a time."

"Yes, prolonged use of one's abilities does get tiring. I see your point," Solas conceded.

"How old is she?" Cassandra asked worriedly.

"She's twenty-two now. She originally belonged to my mother." She quieted as she said, "Then to Danyla, my sister...and then to me."

"Danyla here," she began while giving the golden hart below her a pat, "is Sulara's daughter. I named her for my sister. She's about eight now. Not as well behaved as her mother, of course, but she's a sweet girl."

"Wooooah.." the ranger cooed as she dismounted, swinging her leg over Danyla's neck in front of her and gliding down her side.

Solas mimicked her motion, landing easily on his feet next to Sulara.

Mithra busied herself, removing the riding gear.

"I never did get to see you use the harness," Cassandra said with some disappointment.

The ranger smirked. "Seeker, if you ever do, you'll know we're in deep trouble."

Solas and Cassandra exchanged another worried look.

"But..I may be able to set up a demonstration. After we deal with the Chantry crap, perhaps? I'll make it fun," she promised with a mischievous glint in her eye.

They went their separate ways, all had business to attend to. Cassandra had asked her to come to the war room as soon as she was ready.

Mithra headed for her cabin with the riding gear slung over her shoulder with Josmael and the harts in tow.

Cullen stood in his usual spot by the training yard. "The horses?" he asked hopefully.

"There are conditions to gain them, but we've already taken care of most of it. The rest is a simple matter for your workers," the ranger reported as she strolled by.

"How was your trip, Herald?" He asked, eagerly.

Mithra stopped a few paces away and sighed. Really? He was using that ridiculous moniker now?

The girls continued on without her, but Josmael stayed at her side.

"Tiring. We saw… a lot of shit," she said wearily while pinching the bridge of her nose. "We killed a lot of people and closed quite a few rifts in that region, but there are many more to go."

"Does it hurt?" the commander asked gently.

"Hmm? Closing rifts? No..it feels weird though like I'm...pulling on...water," she tried to explain, her brow furrowing on the last word.

"Well, I'll let you rest. See you at the meeting?" he asked hopefully.

"Yeah. See you there, Templar," Mithra responded halfheartedly.

Cullen wrinkled his nose at the word. "Please don't call me that… I'm not a Templar any longer. I haven't been for months."

She smirked at him. "Yes, you are."

His gaze hardened slightly. "No, I'm not. I left the Order. Renounced my vows. I joined the Inquisition."

Mithra chuckled lightly. "It's not about vows or your job. It's in the way you carry yourself. The way you speak. The way you watch people. You'll always be a Templar…"_ Commander"_. That's how I knew you were one the moment I saw you. Templars are their own breed of beast. One I know too well." With that, she walked away.


	11. Preparations

Mithra dropped the riding gear and went straight for her nest of furs as soon as the cabin door closed. She plopped onto the heap groggily and passed out on Josmael's shoulder the moment she settled in.

She fell into a dead sleep, still clad in her armor.

Solas shook her gently as he crooned, "Lethal'lan.."

She uncurled a bit to face him and mumbled, "Hmmm? What? Something wrong?"

"No, but you missed the meeting. Everyone was wondering where you were," Solas said with an amused grin.

Mithra rubbed her face and sat up. "Ah, shit...how long did I sleep?"

"A few hours. It's mid-afternoon now. They were in a stalemate in the war room and took a recess. They'll gather when you're ready."

Her brow furrowed. "Why..? It's their stuff, not mine."

He laughed. "You seem to be able to wrangle them. They just argue in circles otherwise."

Mithra groaned playfully while looking at the ceiling. "Ugh.. Humans... Where would they be without us elves to sort out their messes?"

Solas chuckled and grinned. "It certainly feels that way at times." His gaze narrowed, and he seemed to study her for a moment.

Mithra squirmed under his scrutiny.

"Are you feeling well?" he asked quickly.

"Yeah, just worn out from all that running around. Sorry I slept so long, I only intended to nap for an hour."

The apostate smiled again. "You owe no apologies. You deserve to rest when you can."

Mithra couldn't help but blush at the way he looked at her and the gentle tone of his voice. She cleared her throat and stood slowly. "Well, we'd better get to the war room before they send a larger search party since I'm **so** important." she rolled her eyes at the last part, earning another chuckle from him.

She smiled again.

* * *

There was some commotion in front of the Chantry when they arrived. Mages and Templars were preparing to fight while accusing each other of the Conclave shit.

"Here we go...just what Haven needs: a brawl," Mithra said wearily.

Cullen stormed out of the Chantry and began trying to break up the agitated masses. He spoke in a strong, stern voice and pointed fingers, barking at both sides to back down.

_Well, he handled that well._ Mithra thought as she watched him with an impressed grin.

Chancellor Roderick oozed out of the crowd then, facing Cullen.

Mithra crossed her arms and cocked her hip. "Oh.. That prick is still around? I hoped something would have eaten him by now.."

Solas grinned and shook his head while guiding her toward the Chantry.

The High Chancellor was grandstanding before the crowd, asking how the Inquisition, and Mithra specifically, was going to restore order.

Cullen looked more than annoyed as he crossed his arms.

"High Chancellor!" Mithra cheered as if she were delighted to see him. "Have you decided to kill me yourself after all? And here I thought you a spineless coward.."

She gave Cullen a grin and a wink. "I'm afraid I left my daggers in my quarters. Do you have a spare up your sleeve? Or perhaps we can borrow some of the venom you're dripping on the commander's boots."

Roderick looked positively cowed. Just as he opened his mouth to continue, she cooed, "Roderick..."

He stopped and looked at her, a little confused.

"That's right... Stick a dick in it, honey."

He turned in a huff and stormed off.

Cullen sighed with a laugh and rubbed his forehead. "Thank you. You have no idea the headache that man gives me."

"Oh, believe me, it was my pleasure," Mithra replied as she turned to enter the building, joined by Cullen and Solas.

"Where were you?" Cullen asked in mild annoyance.

"Dead to the world. I now wish I had stayed that way." She smirked and nodded her head at where the Chancellor had been.

* * *

Leliana and Josephine were already in the war room when they arrived, reading over letters and reports.

"There you are. Maybe you can assist," Josephine started. "We have requests from all over Ferelden."

Mithra blew out a sigh. "Let's see what you've got." She really didn't want to get involved in this.

"Addressed to me?" Mithra looked puzzled as she took the letter and scanned it. "There are "elves and apostates" among the refugees on his land, and he wants us to drive them off?" Mithra gave Leliana a disgusted look. "And you want this guy's favor? Are you completely heartless!?"

Josephine interjected, "Lord Kildairn is a pariah, even among his peers. He's not worth the effort of driving the refugees away."

"This guy is a blatant asshole, that's what he is. Commander, send some people to help the refugees instead. Show this guy that I think he's a dick."

Cullen gave her a crooked grin. "Mah-new-veen-in."

Mithra gaped at him. "You little..." She laughed. "You've been paying attention."

He grinned proudly with a light blush. "I try."

Eyes flicked around the room with wry grins. Solas's eyes, however, narrowed at Cullen.

"A vigil for the late Divine? People that knew her personally should attend. Josephine, this one is all yours." Mithra handed the letter to the ambassador without a second thought and grabbed another.

"Why should we pay the lords of Redcliffe to build things they should have constructed years ago? No, we'll build them ourselves. Commander, do you have the manpower to get it done? I know you want those horses."

He nodded. "I do. I'll coordinate a team of engineers and builders as soon as we're done here."

"Then here are the spots Dennet's people figured were best to build them." She said while marking locations on a pocket map of the Hinterlands.

They went through a dozen other things. They'd make their suggestions to each problem, and Mithra would toss reports or letters at whomever she thought had the right idea. Each had several things to get done while she went to the meeting in Val Royeaux.

"Are we finished then?" Mithra asked eagerly.

"Not yet.. Question time." Leliana grinned.

"Ah, yes. Lay it on me, Spymaster. What do you wish to know?" she drawled with a smirk of her own.

"You have no facial tattoos. Why?"

Mithra's face fell. "It isn't obvious? Because I have no clan. I haven't...in a very long time."

"Why don't you have a clan?" Cullen asked.

Mithra stopped breathing. The rules were to answer honestly, and she fully intended to follow those rules. "Ask a different question. I will never answer that one truthfully." Shamefully, she'd even lied to Deshanna about it.

Leliana's gaze hardened. "Our deal is "answers for freedom," remember?"

Through clenched teeth, Mithra growled, "I'd rather not **speak** of it."

She looked to Cullen, asking for mercy with her eyes.

He regarded her with a note of pity. "Very well, I'll accept a rain check for that one."

Relief washed over her. "Thank you."

Cullen thought a moment. "Where have you traveled to? I recall you saying you were from "Everywhere"..."

Cheerfully, she replied, "I was born in Ferelden, and I've traveled to the Frostback Basin, Eastern Orlais, Southern Nevarra, all over the Free Marches, Antiva, and Rivain had over the course of my life."

Cullen chuckled. "That really is "everywhere".."

She tilted her head marginally and smirked. "I don't kid about these things."

Josephine's turn. "How long have you been traveling?"

Mithra wriggled in place for a second and chewed her lip. "Since I was eight."

Eyebrows around the room went up in surprise.

Cassandra shouted, "You've lived in the wilderness since you were _eight years old!_?"

Mithra looked at her like she was an idiot. "I am _Dalish_..we are _born_ in the wilderness."

"But you're not Dalish," Leliana poked.

"I was born and raised Dalish. I've traveled the wilds all my life. I'm simply...without a clan."

Heavy silence possessed the room, and Mithra fidgeted in the uncomfortable atmosphere. "Are we done here? This Chantry smells of sweaty old lady feet."

They nodded and dispersed, going to their quarters to get some sleep.

* * *

The next day, the crew prepared to travel to Val Royeaux.

Mithra got up early and took a bath using a vanilla bean, and some of the fruit Solas had collected in the Hinterlands.

That dirty bastard... She couldn't believe he watched her that day.. An amused grin crawled across her face as she scrubbed herself down with her mixture. And to think, he hasn't said a thing about it. Maybe he saw her accidentally? He did return with fruit he had collected...but he knew she was bathing in that area...

She gave up on trying to figure it out. It didn't matter. As soon as this "hole in the sky" shit was resolved, she was out of here.

Mithra toweled off when she was clean and wrapped herself in it. She trussed her hair and lay down near the fire to dry. She considered doing her hair today. It had been ages since she did anything fun with it. Perhaps that net style her sister liked to do.. Nah, it was way too complicated to do herself.

She frowned at the thought of her sister. She wished she were here to help her with it.. Dani was so good with that sort of thing.

She shook the thoughts away and sat up while combing her fingers through her hair, hoping to help it dry faster.

There was a knock at her door.

"Who is it?" she called.

"Solas."

Oh shit... "Am I needed right this moment?" Mithra asked.

"May I come in?" He asked in annoyance. How rude to converse through a door.

"Err...why not?" She got up and opened the door, still wrapped in her towel. "It's not like you haven't already seen me naked," Mithra teased with a smirk.

He blushed. "I apologize for that."

A wicked little curl appeared at the corner of her mouth. "Do you? Didn't enjoy the view from your hill then?"

Solas was as proper as ever; eyes glued to her face. "The view was quite lovely, in fact. I still apologize, however. It was inappropriate of me."

Mithra's face went flat. "Inappropriate, huh? And here I was starting to think you had a fun side." She waved him in, closed the door, and moved to pick out some clothes. "What brings you to me?"

"I have something for you. From the smithy."

She turned to face him. His eyes glinted with that lust she had detected earlier. There you are fun side... Her smirk returned. "What is it?"

"Some new...uh..armor.." Solas trailed off as she drew close, eyeing her form through the towel.

"Oh? And why are you delivering armor to me? Have you somehow become my servant? Fetching my things for me? What other things will you be doing..Fenlin?" Mithra purred salaciously while eyeing his lips.

She stood before him now, watching his face intently, looking for the moment he cracks his polite mask.

He leaned forward slightly, then paused. His eyes sharpened.

She gave him a daring look in return. Would he act on that lust she saw within him?

Solas straightened back up and pressed the bundle into her arms, caressing her wrist and hand as he pulled back.

She smiled to herself. What a coward.. "Thank you, Solas. I'll try these on in a moment. Is there anything else?"

He eyed her for a moment in subtle consideration. "No. I'll see you when we depart for Val Royeaux."

* * *

The armor was awkward and bulky, but it would help her blend in better in the city. Mithra wore it now, trying to get accustomed to it as she headed for the Chantry.

She raised her arms and tugged the jacket back down when it rode up. _Elgar'nan! _How could anyone _move _in this?

Cullen was on his way out as she entered. "Hello, Heral-" He stopped dead in his tracks and looked around. "Something smells delicious. Did someone do some baking?"

She looked utterly confused. "I.. don't... think so...?"

"It smells like...blackberries? Vanilla? and..." Cullen paused while trying to guess the third scent.

"Oh! Passion fruit. I just had a bath," she answered thoughtlessly.

He looked at her awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck. He'd just told her she smells like pie... Maker, his fool mouth. Cullen stammered as he fought the warmth invading his face. "Oh! Uh..you smell..lovely."

Mithra felt extremely awkward now. He thought she smelled...**"delicious"**..? Like pie..? No innuendo whatsoever in **that** statement.. She took a breath and said, "Umm...Thank you.. I think."

They stood in one of the most awkward silences either of them had ever experienced for a moment.

She pointed her thumb toward the Chantry's interior. "I was just..on my way to see Josephine. I'll...uh.. see you later, Templar," she stammered before continuing inside.

"Y-yeah. See you before you head out." He watched her go for a moment, then remembered what he was supposed to be doing.

* * *

Mithra knocked on Josephine's door politely. "Ambassador?" she called nervously and eased the door open.

Josephine smiled brightly at her presence. "How may I help you, Herald?"

"Please, call me "Mithra," Josephine." She paused, uncertain if it would be inconvenient to ask. "Do you have some free time? I was wondering if you would help me for a moment."

"Certainly, what may I do for you?"

"I need a little help styling my-"

Josephine jumped excitedly before Mithra could finish speaking. "Absolutely. Come. Sit." She scrambled to get a nearby stool and patted it once it was in place.

Mithra smiled at her exuberance and entered the office. "I have a style in mind. I drew it here." She handed Josie the drawing on scrap leather. "I used to wear it like this all the time, and I kinda..miss it."

Josephine examined the drawing. "It looks easy enough. Sit, and I will do what I can."

After an hour of combing, splitting, and braiding her hair, she was finally finished. Four braided ropes of hair ran along her head until they joined in the back; two began at her temples and the others just below her ears. The hair that wasn't braided was left loose and flowing; the braids guiding it into a broad ribbon of white down her back.

"Oh..it's lovely! They'll love it in Val Royeaux!" the ambassador beamed while admiring her work.

Mithra smiled gratefully. "It is, indeed, lovely. Thank you very much, Josephine. I appreciate your assistance."

"Anytime, Hera...Lady Mithra." Josephine smiled, glad to have been asked to play with Mithra's hair. She had wanted to since she laid eyes on it.

* * *

"I'm late, I'm late, I'm late..." Mithra scolded herself as she hurried around Haven's people. She rushed out of the gate and called Danyla with a whistle of her lips, signaling her to hurry.

Cassandra and the others were near the region's gate and called for her.

Josmael trotted up to her happily as she lowered her hood and signaled the party, "_One moment.."_

"Josmael, you're staying here. I don't want those cheese-mongering Royans thinking of you as a trophy hunt," she explained as she approached Cullen. "You can keep the commander company while I'm away."

He grumbled and whined his protests.

"I'll be fine. I promise. We're just going to meet with some snooty old ladies."

Cullen overheard their conversation and turned to face the pair. "I'm babysitting...?" He stopped mid-sentence. Oh, wow, she looked lovely. She had just gone from stunning to intoxicating in Cullen's book, and his face reflected it.

Mithra stopped and looked at him awkwardly. Shit..not more of this.. How could she go about telling him that it simply isn't possible? "Umm... Commander...?"

He snapped out of it and hardened his expression to "professional." "Yes, Lady Mithra?"

"I'm leaving Josmael behind for this trip. Would you mind making sure he stays out of trouble?"

Cullen eyed the wolf, who looked at him flatly. Josmael was not excited about this idea, but he would obey his asa'ma'sal.

"It would be my pleasure," Cullen responded with a grin.

_We'll see about that, Templar..._ Josmael thought with a hint of a smirk.

"Thank you. I'm late as it is. Josmael, mind the Commander while I'm away. I'll be back as soon as I'm able."

Danyla's thunderous approach caught her ear at last. Mithra stepped into the road and waved a hand signal.

The golden hart picked up her pace and drew near. Mithra snatched a handle and threw her right leg upward as she passed. The momentum carried her straight onto the hart's back, and she was gone.

Cullen looked at Josmael with surprise. "Does she do that often?"

The wolf growled lightly in response. _"Yeah. What of it, Templar?"_


	12. To Val Royeaux

Half a day into the journey, Cassandra asked, "That thing you did...when she charged... Is that what the harnesses are for?"

Mithra looked over her shoulder with an amused grin. "Only partially. There's much more to it than an emergency mounting." She spun her legs around to ride backward on Danyla.

The hart just kept walking like nothing was amiss.

Cassandra's expression shifted to enlightenment.

"I promise, I'll give you a full demonstration after we deal with this Chantry mess. It'll be fun." Her eyes gleamed with mischief. "I'll include everyone."

"Sounds fun!" Varric cheered, noting the twinkle in the elf's gaze.

Mithra scooted forward to sit astride Danyla's flank and lay back with her arms behind her head. "Much better.."

The party exchanged amused glances.

"Show off," Varric chided with a grin.

Mithra snorted a laugh and closed her eyes. "If you've got the skill..."

Her eyes shot open when she heard the kiss cue. Mithra's hand reached desperately for a handle of the harness. She barely managed to grasp it as Danyla reared into a charge, rolling her off to one side.

One foot hit the ground, and she lept, pushing herself back into the air and pulled herself toward the beast. Unfortunately, she didn't jump high enough and found herself clinging to Danyla's side. Mithra struggled to climb the rest of the way.

The party's laughter sounded behind her.

"Eeeeaassyyy.." Mithra cooed to the beast as she righted herself.

She glared back at Solas, who was loping along just behind her.

* * *

Josmael was bored; Danyla was away, and he wanted to play.

Mithra_ had _told him to keep the templar company. Without warning, he jumped into Cullen's arms, "Maker!" and took him to the ground.

The wolf tugged at his coat with his teeth while he rolled to get back up. Cullen lifted his arms to free himself of his coat and his disadvantaged position by extension.

Josmael poked his head through an armhole and raced off into the woods while Cullen scrambled to get up.

Josmael's happy paws rushed past the cabin. _"Come on, Templar! You're too slow!"_ Josmael huffed and yipped delightedly.

Nothing short of pissed, Cullen sprinted behind him. "Return that immediately!"

The wolf just ran faster while Cullen's coat flew behind him like a cape. _"Nope! You'll have to earn it!"_

He felt alive when he ran like this; dodging trees, spinning circles, and sprinting out of his pursuer's grasp. He would let Cullen close enough to get him to reach out for the coat then dart away while laughing his wolfy chuckle.

Cullen's pace slowed to a lumbering walk as he panted heavily. "Fine! Keep it!" He waved dismissively and leaned against a pine.

Mithra had been gone for two days. He had to put up with this for a week and a half?

Cullen groaned and slopped some of the slush and mud off of his breastplate. "Now I'll have to polish it again..."

The wolf stopped and looked for his pursuer, but found no one. He'd already given up? He was no fun. The wolf loped around to spot Cullen, hoping to lure him into another chase.

Cullen plopped down in the snow and leaned against the tree again to regain his breath. "Never again... Never...babysitting him...again." He spied the wolf approaching, and just rolled his head toward him with exhausted defeat all over his face.

Josmael stood a few paces from him and crouched down into a happy, playful stance. His ass was in the air, tail wagging slowly, asking him to continue with a series of grumbles and whines.

Cullen sighed a laugh; he couldn't help it as he thought about what had transpired. "You win. Can I have my coat back, please?"

The wolf stood again and just eyed Cullen with a smirk lingering on his face.

Cullen narrowed his eyes. "Are you...smirking at me..?" Silly, asking an overgrown wolf a question.

Josmael huffed with what sounded like a chuckle and showed his front teeth, seeming to smile. Was it still his pleasure to watch him?

Cullen's brow furrowed in mild disbelief. "Talking to you really is no different from people...is it?"

The wolf yawned with a whine and lay down while eyeing Cullen.

Cullen waved an invitation to the beast, asking him to come closer.

Josmael stared at him in thought for a moment before complying.

Cullen stroked him and ruffled the sides of his face with a lopsided grin. "She's right, you know..."

The wolf gave him a questioning look as the coat slipped over his head.

"She should have gotten a cat," Cullen poked with a chuckle.

Josmael grumbled lightly in what sounded like a laugh and sneezed at him.

* * *

"I can't believe we wasted our time on this bunch," Mithra growled as she stormed away from the stage the Chantry Mothers had made their hateful speeches from. "And I swear, if I so much as **see** another of these Orlesians mouth "Knife ear" or "elf savage," I'll repaint those blue walls with blood," she seethed while pulling her red cloak tightly around her.

Mithra hated Val Royeaux with a _burning_ passion. She'd hated it the moment they had entered the gates, and people began flinching away at the sight of her. Some small part of her enjoyed the terrified looks, but she knew she needed to convince them that she was harmless. At least, _mostly_ harmless. She wasn't sure, but she thought she had succeeded. The Templars seemed to steal any hatred aimed at her, which could only be a good thing, right?

"That would just enhance the weight of their fears, Lethal'lan," Solas said evenly.

"I don't even care at this point. I'd be more than pleased to see this place burn." She stopped and hung her head while pinching the bridge of her nose. "Let's just...get out of here."

An arrow embedded itself between two paving stones ahead of her. "Ah..calling out the assassins already. I expected better aim from these puffy bastards, prideful as they are.."

Cassandra investigated the projectile. "There's a message.." She read it quickly. "Look at this."

Mithra's face softened slightly. "Looks like we have a friend. Let's find these clues then."

They ran around, picking up pieces of info and a key. "Looks like we have a lead on...something." Mithra was slightly puzzled, but her curiosity nudged her to look into it. They were to meet someone on the outskirts of the city in some back alley that night. "Bring swords," the note suggested.

They turned toward the gates then, eager to be free of the place and its crowds. A messenger stopped her to extend an invitation to a "salon." She read the invitation as the messenger left. "Seems some Orlesian tart wants to meet with me...No thanks." Mithra tossed the paper into a waste bin without a second glance.

They got to the gates, and someone else begged a moment of their time.

Mithra looked to the sky and growled, "Elgar'naaaannn...will I never be free of this city?"

It was Grand Enchanter Fiona, inviting her to meet with the Rebel Mages in Redcliffe.

"Better you than those fool helm polishers." Mithra grinned. "We'll see you there, Fiona."

* * *

Night fell, and the group checked out that lead the notes lead them to. They arrived in a back alley to find some snooty asshole that tried to kill Mithra as soon as he recognized her. Stranger still, the prick seemed offended that Mithra didn't know him from a hole in the ground.

He had started on a tirade when a young blond elf with a very bad haircut showed up with an arrow pointed at him. "Just say, "What"..!"

The noble sneered behind his mask. "What is the-" His words quit when her arrow embedded in his tonsils.

The city elf screwed up her nose as she moved to collect her arrow. "Eeeh! Squishy one! But you heard me, right? "Just say what." Rich tits always try for more than they deserve." She walked over to the fresh corpse. "Blah, blah," She pulled the arrow from his mouth. "B**lah**! Obey me! Arrow in my face!"

"I know what you mean. Thanks for shutting him up."

"Great, yeah? I'm Sera.." She gestured to a stack of crates as if introducing them. "..this is cover, get round it! For the reinforcements. Don't worry; someone tipped me their equipment shed. They got no breeches."

The ranger laughed lightly at that revelation. Half naked men rarely fought well, especially shy, modestly endowed ones.

A short fight ensued. It was over way too fast for Mithra's liking; she really needed to kill something for a prolonged period of time due to the rage this city summoned in her. She couldn't help but think of Josmael and his antics during the fight, which cooled her anger to some degree.

A city elf that had a sense of humor and wasn't a sniveling whelp? Welcome aboard.

* * *

Cullen and Josmael jogged along the path, headed toward the woods behind the cabin. They had bonded somewhat over their time together, making Cullen's babysitting much more enjoyable. He was even beginning to understand the wolf a little bit.

Josmael picked up his pace and chuffed, laughing at Cullen.

Cullen sped up, trying to keep up with his furry companion.

They did a lap around the tree line and came back to the gates behind the cabin.

"Good run, Jos." Cullen smiled while panting.

The wolf spun in place and woofed at him. It wasn't quite the same as playing with Danyla, but their runs these past few days gave him a decent substitute.

Cullen stood upright and stretched. "Ugh..I'm out of shape. I think I need these runs more than you do."

Josmael responded with a grumble and a bump of his nose on the former templar's arm.

He scratched Josmael's head. "It's nice to have someone to run with who isn't overly chatty. The recruits just want to talk all day. She should be back later today or tomorrow. I bet you're eager to have her home."

Josmael lay down in the snow, giving Cullen sad eyes. He missed her terribly and worried every moment that she wasn't in Haven.

Cullen sat next to him, still catching his breath. He regarded his furry friend for a moment. "Can I tell you something, Josmael?"

The wolf lifted his head, looking him in the eye.

Cullen was taken aback, noticing at that moment just how big he was. Nervously, he said, "Umm...I-I...like her. A lot," he admitted slowly. "I think she's...incredible...and smart..and beautiful. But..I fear she'll never allow herself to...become friends with me."

The wolf eyed him blankly. He doubted it too.

"Would you...be okay with that? If we were to become...close, eventually?"

Josmael twitched his nose and continued to stare at him. He didn't know. This sort of thing hadn't really come up before. He whined and plopped on his side, eyes twitching between the man and the ground.

Cullen sighed, not quite understanding what Josmael was trying to say, if anything.

Cullen turned his gaze toward the road, hoping to see her return soon.

* * *

"For the love of everything sacred in the world, would you two stop it?!" Mithra shrieked at Sera and Solas.

They'd been arguing since they left Val Royeaux about all manner of things.

"Droopy ears started it with his stupid, elfy shite!" Sera accused.

Solas was beginning to look pissed. "Excuse me?"

"Excuse yourself!"

"Mythal'enaste! Seriously, both of you can... Palaan adahl'en!" Mithra hollered while throwing her head back.

Sera blew raspberries at the elvish words while the apostate gasped at the phrase.

Mithra growled to herself. What was happening...? An elitist elf and an anti-elf..elf. Worst companion pairing ever.

The moment Sera opened her mouth, Mithra roared, "Enough! No more! Not another word out of either of you until we reach Haven. My head cannot endure a stronger ache at this point!"

Solas immediately donned his calmest, quietest mask.

Sera just sneered and looked away from all of them and mumbled, "Stupid elfy elves..."

* * *

They finally reached the gates of Haven a day later, and Mithra just felt tired and heavy.

The meeting had been a ploy by the old biddies to have the Templars kill Mithra. Luckily for her, they turned on the bitches and marched out of the city instead.

She rubbed an eye with the heel of her hand. She couldn't wait to see Josmael and seriously needed a nap.

They neared the training grounds, but Cullen and the wolf were nowhere to be found.

Mithra dismounted and rested her head on Danyla's shoulder with a tired groan. She sighed and got to work freeing her mount from her leathers. She heard a series of sharp whines and excited yips. Mithra turned to see Josmael come screaming through the area to greet her.

She smiled broadly and cheered "Isa'ma'sal!" while opening her arms to embrace him.

He pummelled into her, and she hit the ground hard, knocking the wind out of her for a moment.

Her companions started to reach for her, worry evident on their faces, but backed away when they noticed she was uninjured.

The great wolf was a blur of motion around her, spinning and jumping while making every noise in his vocal range.

Mithra laughed out loud at his exuberant display when she finally got her breath back.

"I've missed you too, 'Ma'da'fen." She sat up, smiled, and hugged him tight with a delighted wiggle.

"Piss balls! What is that thing?!" Sera squalled when she saw Josmael.

"A wolf, obviously," Solas remarked coolly.

"You just...cuddle...with wolves?!" she squawked.

"Have some respect, Felasil. He is _her_ wolf."

"Wha-eva! Keep that thing away from me!" Sera spat nervously.

Mithra and Josmael stood before the group. "Josmael. Meet Sera," she introduced her with a sweet voice, clever grin, and a motion of her hand.

The wolf obeyed the gesture and immediately began circling the newcomer slowly, using a threatening posture.

Sera felt like she was being hunted all of a sudden and squeaked while watching the stalking beast.

Mithra gave Solas a wink and a grin. Such sweet revenge.

The apostate returned the grin, pleased that Mithra was getting a little payback for the both of them.

She called him off after a few circles, letting Sera free of the wolf's scrutiny.

The city elf ran off to find the tavern, and the rest went about their business now that the show was over.

* * *

She finished freeing the girls and gathered her packs then started for the cabin while Josmael bounded happily next to her.

Cullen came around the path, sounding quite pleased. "You're back!"

Mithra stopped. "At long last and to my great relief, yes. Was 'Ma'da'fen much trouble while I was away? I know he can be a handful."

Cullen chuckled. "That's an understatement.."

She winced. "That bad, huh?"

He blinked and raised his chin slightly. "We had a lot of fun, actually."

Mithra gaped in amused surprise. "Fun? _You, _Mr. Serious, had fun? Do tell, Commander." She laughed, knowing very well what Josmael considered "fun."

Cullen walked with her toward her cabin, helping her carry her packs while she wrapped the harnesses around herself.

When he relayed the coat incident that started their runs, she laughed so hard she had to stop to keep from falling over.

"He just..jumped into your arms and took off with it?" She shook her head in amusement and eyed her wolf fondly.

"We've been running together every morning since," Cullen said with a smile.

Mithra joked, "Running together, chasing him, or fleeing for your life?"

"Running together. It's the first thing we do in the mornings now."

Mithra blanched slightly. Josmael had accepted him enough to..? But he's a templar. She sighed heavily. It didn't matter. It was just because Danyla was away.

Noting her expression, Cullen asked, "Is..that.. not okay?"

Mithra shook her head. "It's just a surprise. He doesn't really play nice with anyone. He tackles me playfully on the odd occasion. He took me down hard when I got back, in fact."

As if on cue, Josmael reared up and pushed her sideways hard.

Cullen put an arm out to steady her, and she tensed up, still uncomfortable with physical contact.

Mithra squirmed out of his touch and took a few steps away, glowering at her da'fen for the trick.

_Well, she didn't scream this time.._ Cullen thought halfheartedly.

Josmael grumbled and yipped at her with a smirk.

Mithra sighed in annoyance. "No shit.."

Cullen looked worried suddenly. "What did he say..?"

She looked at him, still a little annoyed. "He said he's still a puppy at heart."

Cullen's shoulders drooped, relieved that the wolf didn't disclose his confession from the day before.


	13. Flight and Fury

They entered the cabin, and Cullen set her bags down in the corner where Cassandra had a few weeks ago.

"You've really settled in," He said while he surveyed her quarters.

Her things were everywhere; a pile of tanned leather lay neatly on the desk in the corner. Skins of various creatures hung on the walls. Bows of various woods and sizes rested against the far wall. And little knick-knacks that she'd carved rested on shelves and small tables.

"Figured I might as well, I'll be here until that stupid hole is sealed. Hopefully, your silly war will be resolved as well."

Sadness washed over Cullen's features. "You'll be leaving?"

She looked at him like he was stupid. "Of course. I don't belong here and never will." She gestured into the distance, then dropped her hand to her side. "My place is out in the world - in the wilds. Sadly, this war has affected my home. Even more than it has yours, in fact."

He gave her a worried look. "You've had to deal with their battles often?"

She laughed humorlessly. "Too many times to count. They fight in the countryside and the forests, killing Dalish by the dozens. They've wiped out two whole clans that I'm aware of. Bastards can't seem to keep their shit between themselves." She lifted her tunic to reveal a fresh scar. "I was caught unawares in one of their skirmishes before hopping a ship to Ferelden." Mithra let her shirt fall. "I nearly lost my life that day. Luckily, there was a clan nearby. They took me in for a while, saved my life," she explained.

Josmael whined and pressed against her.

"Is that the debt you spoke of? You came here for them?"

She grinned slyly while stroking Josmael between the ears. "That's a war room question, Commander. Does Leliana have you pumping me for information now?"

He missed the joke. "No! Of course not. I'm just discussing the war."

The ranger laughed softly. "I was teasing you, Commander. The answer is, "yes." I offered to go in place of one of their hunters. One, to repay them for their care and hospitality. And two, so I had a valid reason to leave. I don't belong anywhere. I simply...exist. I love to travel and dislike being trapped in one place for too long. It's dangerous for us to linger in an area for any amount of time." She shrugged and flexed her hand. "Sadly, for me, this thing keeps me leashed to this place. I can't leave until that..thing is dealt with."

Cullen frowned at the revelation but could think of little to say on the matter. "I'm sorry..about the war."

"Sympathy solves nothing, Commander. It's just the way things are now. Moping won't stop their war. Killing or recruiting them will." Her voice softened. "..but thank you..for the thought. It's surprising..pleasantly so."

She looked to the floor then. "I'd appreciate it if you said nothing of my eventual departure to the spymaster. I could evade her spies easily, but I'd rather not have to. It would become...unfortunate..for them, and I'd rather not kill Inquisition agents. You all have been remarkably kind to me, despite the trouble I've been."

Cullen looked at her in disbelief. "Trouble? You've been more of a _help_ than anything. You've gone out there and solved problems, saved lives, stabilized areas by closing rifts, and stopping the fighting. We need you."

She snorted a laugh. "No, you don't. You're gaining the manpower to solve your own problems. One wild elf won't stop a war."

He gave her a hard look. "We're gaining the manpower because of _you._"

Mithra returned his look and growled, "You mean because of that stupid name. The Herald of Andraste?! The lie you shems want so desperately to believe?" She stabbed a finger at him. "That silly _bullshit_ is going to get your Inquisition, and me, in deep shit! What happens when we learn the truth?"

Josmael let a growl rumble in his chest at Cullen in warning.

The commander felt fiercely insulted then, and his expression shifted to match.

Tears threatened Mithra's vision. "What will your people do to mine when they realize I really am just an elf? Will they March on my people again? Will your Chantry rally your Templars and go on a fucking killing spree? Because that's where I see this going, Templar! My people are fucked! They always have been!" She pointed into the distance. "Find yourself another _patsy_ to don that ridiculous mantle. I won't! I'll deny it until my dying breath!" She sneered at him and stormed out of the cabin before Cullen could speak, the wolf was on her heels, as always.

* * *

Solas relaxed in a chair near the fire. With a glass of wine in his hand, he began to read a book of urban legends from this age.

Which might she be? The tale of Fenjosi was...disturbing. It seems very far removed from who she was. Would they all be similar? He turned a page and sipped his wine.

* * *

Later that evening, Mithra wandered into the Chantry. She heard shouting as she neared the war room and stopped to listen. They were arguing over which faction to approach for aid..again.

Cullen and Cassandra were pushing to recruit the Templars while Leliana and Josephine wanted to go with the Mages; their voices carried halfway across the building.

Mithra sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. This bunch was hopeless.

A very stormy-looking Cassandra opened the door and marched out.

Mithra just gave her a tired look.

"There you are! Where have you been?!" the seeker snarled.

"Cooling my temper so I wouldn't go on a killing spree. Looks like you should do the same," she remarked evenly.

"We need _you_ to settle this. None of us can."

The ranger scowled. "It's not my _place_, Seeker. I'm here to close the damned hole in the sky, nothing more."

Cassandra groaned, "Please, do it. We need to break this stalemate before I throttle them all!"

Mithra regarded her a moment and growled, "Fine. I'll do this as quick as I can."

"Thank you!" Cassandra replied, and both turned toward the door.

As soon as Mithra entered the room, Cullen eyed her with what looked like irritation. Solas was there as well, face serene as ever, but his eyes showed some annoyance at the time wasted. Varric had left a while ago, not wanting to stay for the fight any longer. And Sera had never shown up, which was fine by them, she was too new to trust anyway.

"What's the problem now?" Mithra growled at the lot.

Cullen snapped, "We need you to get the Templars to suppress the Breach; that's what."

"No," she rebuffed. "I already told Fiona we'd meet her in Redcliffe to talk. I'm _not_ going into a Templar stronghold."

The commander began to seethe. He knew she would choose the Mages over the Templars. "And why not?! This is far more important than your personal hatred! They _will_ aid us; they're trained and able to handle the situation!"

Mithra's face twisted with malice. "You want to know why I won't, Templar?! Fine, I'm cashing in your fucking "rain check." I'll tell you the story that I've never told anyone and swore I never would. You wanted to know why I have no clan?! Here it is!"

She slammed her hands on the table and rambled, "It was a night like any other. The children were settling down to sleep while the adults were enjoying some social time around the fire. My sister and I were preparing our beds in the aravel. Then they came; an ambush."

Mithra's eyes burned with anger, and her voice rose, "Templars from a nearby town swarmed the camp. They slew the warriors as they moved to guard the clan. The hunters were cut down while firing arrows at the invaders. Aravels holding sleeping children were set ablaze! Babes were ripped from their mother's arms and cast violently to the ground! They dragged what women they could off into the woods; their screams could be heard from far beyond the treeline!" She paused to swallow, voice shaking with emotion.

Josephine looked like she was about to faint already, and Cullen went pale.

The ranger just charged into the rest of her story, voice shifting from rage to smoke, "I rushed out to help, bow in hand, daggers on my belt. I had killed humans in defense of the clan before, even though I was forbidden from it. I was too young, they'd said. And they were right. I had never faced nor even _seen_ heavily armored ones before then. I found too late that my practice bow was no match for their armor. But I didn't intend to hide in my aravel, waiting to be burned alive or discovered and slain while cowering."

She blinked rapidly, trying to keep the tears at bay. "My older sister was on Sulara, begging me to get on and flee with her. One smashed me with a shield before I could turn to go, sending me to the ground on my back. I screamed at her to run as he climbed on top of me, holding me down with his weight. My wrists were held together with one hand, while his other was trying to undress me enough so he could-" She stopped a moment and looked down, choking on a lump in her throat. She slammed both fists on the table and clenched her jaw, trying desperately to keep her rage in check.

Solas began to reach for her, to comfort her, and she just waved him off hotly.

"Did he-?" Cassandra started.

"No," Mithra choked past the lump. She cleared her throat and took a deep breath to calm herself. "An arrow found its way into his back before he could succeed. It pierced his lung. He died on top of me slowly, bleeding out and coughing all over me. But I still couldn't get free. He was too heavy for me to move."

She stopped again, despair strangling her. "So I did the only thing I could. I played dead..." She took another breath to fight her tears and growled, "I lay there all night under a Templar's _corpse_, watching the whole of my clan get slaughtered by them." Mithra blinked, and hot tears dripped onto her clenched fists. "When it finally ended, the remaining Templars just...left. They didn't take anything. They hadn't come for any purpose other than to, as they said, "slay the heathens" and "rape the women."

Her eyes bore into Cullen's then, his face drained and wide with horror.

The heat returned to her tone, "Eight. Years. Old. They tried to rape me. They slaughtered all but my sister and myself. They destroyed my home, my family. They took the only life I ever knew." She spat, "For. Sport." Oh, and she hoped that burned as much as her blood did.

She sniffed and wiped at tears angrily, suppressing the volume of her voice again. "And that's why...that's why I _will not_ go. If you want them, _you_ go get them. But I _won't_ be here when you return. And none of you will _ever_ find me." It was both a promise and a threat. She spun on her heel and left as fast as she could, slamming the door so hard it swung back open and smacked the wall with a bang.

Everyone just stood in disgusted silence. The council couldn't even look at each other.

Solas was the first to move, leaving the room quickly and quietly.

Cassandra stood bewildered, her hand pressed firmly to her mouth.

Josephine's knees had buckled halfway through the telling; she sat on the floor to avoid fainting altogether.

Leliana was finally moving to assist the ambassador with tears in her eyes.

And Cullen had turned green while leaning on the table, absolutely disgusted with the story he had just heard.

* * *

Mithra ran out of the Chantry, sprinted toward a wall, and ran as fast as she could along the interior to flee the town quickly, avoiding the crowd altogether.

As she neared the main gate, she called to all the beasts in the area, and several animal songs rang through the valley. _"Spread out! Make tracks! Mislead them!"_

The ranger lept through the gate and tore through the area toward her cabin in a dead sprint.

She arrived to see the harts, Josmael, and the native beasts running all over the place. They left their prints everywhere so no one could track the area.

Once in the woods, she scaled a tall pine in the middle and sat, wrapped in a dull brown cloak, waiting for night to fall.

Josmael and the harts took to the mountains and separated then, leaving Haven behind. They'd return when summoned, but the orders, for now, were "hide and mislead." They would do so to the best of their ability.

* * *

Ten minutes after the ranger's flight, Cullen ran to the training grounds. "Have you seen her, Lieutenant? The Herald, have you seen her?"

His lieutenant saluted and reported, "I saw her run for her cabin. I haven't seen her since, sir."

A runner approached with a report and handed it to the commander.

Cullen closed his eyes and sighed after he read it. "Agents have already looked there. It appears she never entered her quarters. They're currently searching the woods, trying to find a trail."

He faced his recruits and began barking orders. "Alright, recruits! The herald has gone missing. We _must_ find her. You are to go to the Hinterlands for a thorough search of the area. Look everywhere. Find a trail we can follow. You'll move at first light. Get some rest. Dismissed!"

His small army of trainees left for their quarters to prepare for tomorrow's mission and sleep.

_Maker... _What had he done? The scene she had described played in his head, and his eyes watered. He rubbed his forehead to hide his face as he left the area for his own bed.

How could she endure such a thing? A **child**..what a nightmare. How could she stand to even speak with him? It's a wonder she didn't kill him on sight. The commander remembered the kick to the face and huffed. Oh yeah, she had tried to. He didn't blame her; he'd have done the same in her place.

He thought about the way she had screamed when he pulled her out of the druffalo's path and how she had broken down into a panic attack when trying to reclaim her whistle. It all made sense now; why she was afraid of him..

Cullen reached his quarters at last and removed his armor, placing it carefully on its stand. He recalled what she'd said, _"You'll always be a Templar...It's in the way you carry yourself. The way you speak. They are their own breed of beast..one I know too well."_

Tears threatened his vision again. His jaw clenched, and he punched the door frame next to him. He _was not_ that. He had **never** been that.

The commander dropped onto his bed and stared at the ceiling, hating himself and his brothers in The Order.

His hand came to his bare chest, and his fingers brushed something.

_This._.she gave him this, even after what they did to her. He toyed with the bear paw necklace that he'd forgotten he was wearing and looked at it. An intricate little paw the size of a coin. He noted the smooth lines in the details of its creation. She had made it with her own hands. It probably took her weeks to create. And she gave it to him like it was nothing at all. She told him not to read too much into it, but she gifted it to him, even though he was a templar. How could he not see something in that?

Cullen smiled slightly as he traced his finger over the lines of the soothing trinket.

* * *

Night fell, and Mithra was still perched in her tree.

A group had come through earlier, looking for her. She had sat still as a stone, watching them, camouflaged in her cloak. They searched the area for an hour, but not far enough. They never found her animal's trail among the mess of tracks and gave up the search.

She'd heard Cullen's voice in the training grounds from her perch much earlier, probably ordering soldiers to scour the Hinterlands and surrounding areas.

The ranger smirked cockily. They would never find her. She was the best in the world at this game.

She finally descended, quickly and silently, and tried not to leave any of her own as she headed for the mountains where they had fled.

Mithra noticed a druffalo nearby, one of those that had helped make the mess in the snow. She charmed it silently with a gesture and a little power, not needing the whistle at close range.

It ambled over to her, and she climbed aboard, laying atop the lumbering beast while it took her deep into the mountain pass to find her family.


	14. Hunting

Everyone met in the war room early the next morning.

"Where could she have gone?! She couldn't have evaded everyone!" Cassandra snarled over the map.

"Witnesses report seeing her leave through the town gate, then run for her cabin," Cullen answered.

"She never entered the cabin, and my agents found no obvious trail in that area. The animals covered her tracks thoroughly, and it was too dark to search far," Leliana reported.

Solas spoke up, "She will not be found. She has been a ghost for most of her life. None have ever been able to track her."

All turned to the apostate then, curious over what he might know.

"What do you mean, Solas?" Leliana asked while crossing her arms.

Cassandra looked to the floor in shame. "She...is the source of legends across Thedas. We found out during our time in the Hinterlands. She made us swear not to speak of it. She felt it would ruin the game you two had arranged."

"What legends?" The spymaster scowled.

The seeker admitted, "Fenjosi. A monstrous creature in Nevarra that is said to eat the flesh of her victims and give birth to wolves, among other things. The tales are obviously untrue, but that's the one she has admitted to. She claims the Dalish started it out of fear of her wolf and has four others based on her and her animals, but I have no idea what they might be."

Solas stayed quiet, hoping to be forgotten.

Lady Nightingale eyed him. "You two are close...do you know of any others?"

He clenched his jaw before answering, "She hasn't told me of any, but I did some research. My own curiosity urged me to try to find out which stories might have stemmed from her."

"And..?" Cassandra prodded curiously.

"I've found one probability so far. She said she was considered a hero in parts of the Free Marches. I found an urban legend that matches that qualification as well as descriptions of some of her abilities."

"Well?" Cullen pushed.

Solas sighed sadly and rubbed his forehead. Would she forgive him? "Ghi'sulelan, which translates to "Singer of beasts." A hero among the Dalish in the northeastern region of the Free Marches. The Dalish threaten humans with her story, claiming that she will call down the fury of the forests upon them if they attack their clans. Considering the story she told us, I'm almost _certain_ it is her. The tales I found say that she strikes when humans wander too close to a Dalish camp. No one ever sees her, but the creatures of the forest swarm invaders while she strikes them down with arrows. She leaves only one alive to warn others not to approach the area."

Solas paused in consideration. "I've read that many have tried to hunt her down for her interference. All have failed. They are either found dead, disappear, or return in a terrible state. Of course, it is only a legend. There may be small fragments of truth, but the Fenjosi tale has obviously grown far out of proportion. I haven't seen her eat anyone or even consider the idea. Who can say how much in her tales are true?"

* * *

Mithra had traveled a full day away from Haven; in the opposite direction of the search, according to her own scouts.

She charged through the battlefield, daggers slicing like razors, severing the straps holding Templar plates in place. Oh, how she loved destroying their armor before killing them. It made them fearful, which caused them to make deadly mistakes.

She had ambushed a group of rebel Templars on the west side of the mountain range, north of Haven. Mithra had taken out sixteen already. Josmael snarled by her side while three bears roared behind them. Birds of prey and scavengers circled overhead, some already feasting on the fallen. Now she faced off with the last one; her face wicked with bloodlust as she stared him down.

The ranger laughed viciously as his armor fell from his flesh and hit the ground.

The poor bastard screamed when he found himself exposed and unarmed, gripping his bloodied sword-arm in pain. "Not possible!"

"Oh, quite possible, Templar." She spun to cut his throat with a clean, wet slice. "Fen'Harel ver na!"

* * *

Cassandra approached Cullen in the training yard; his troops long gone, headed for the Hinterlands. They had been ordered to search along the way.

"Any word yet?" Cassandra asked.

He sighed and rubbed his temples. "Nothing yet. Either they haven't found anything, or a report is on the way."

"Are you alright?" the seeker pried.

His head snapped up as if he'd forgotten she was there, then straightened his posture. "Yes, just tired. And worried. We need her to seal the breach."

The seeker regarded him for a moment. "Is that the only reason you're worried?"

The commander's expression grew a little harder. "She is a great fighter and has done good work for us thus far. Of course I'm worried. We need her."

Cassandra grinned slightly. "She is and has. She will turn up. She can't have gone too far in one night."

* * *

Sera strolled along Haven's street the next morning, eating a rather large cherry pie with a fork as she wandered toward the gates.

She heard shouting then and peeked down the stairs to see Seggrit's shop overrun with nugs. They were everywhere: all over the table, in the wagon, on the crates, even on Seggrit himself.

The city elf laughed out loud at the scene. Served him right. That one was a right arse.

Seggrit was hollering and trying to shake off two nugs that had attached themselves to his leg while the rest made their escape with several pieces of armor and clothing.

She followed them out the gates and watched them run as fast as they could up the path toward the temple. "Weirdy little things. What's with the feet, anyway?" She shrugged and took another bite of pie.

Sera spied Cullen as she turned her attention the other way. He was looking sad and fidgeting with something.

When she drew near the former templar, she offered, "Pie?"

The commander jumped slightly and tucked something into his armor. "What?"

"Pie! You know..fruity stuff in crust? Pies is so good! They always make me feel betta. You look like you could use some."

Cullen gave her a weird look. "Where did she even find you?"

Sera sneered. "Oh! There you go, Mr. Jackboot! Someone offers you pie, and you turn into some high and mighty arse. Even The Lady Herald isn't that much of a bitch, and she's elfy as they come! Never mind, more for me!"

She turned and left, enjoying her pie.

* * *

Mithra perched in another tree on the far side of the peak, where she and Adaar's company had camped before the explosion. She was surveying the area, looking for scouts.

An owl flew and landed on a branch before her.

"What have you heard?" Mithra asked.

It responded with a few screeches and a hoot, ruffling its feathers and tilting its head.

"Good to know. Ma serranas, Falon."

She lifted her whistle, and a raven's caw echoed through the mountainside. She took out a slip of paper and charcoal.

Just as a raven arrived, she rolled the message and secured it to the bird's leg while asking, "To the farmlands, near Redcliffe. To the south and east of here. Find the horse master and give him this note."

The bird departed, heading in the direction it was asked to fly.

She glared up at the breach and flipped it off with both hands. "Fuck you, asshole! Leashing me here. What the fuck is up with the memory bullshit?! My memories are my own, leave them that way!" she spat at the breach.

Mithra turned to face Haven somberly. "I think I should return tomorrow. It's been three days now."

She sighed again; the thought of being trapped there made her weary. She was ready to get things done and close the hole in the sky for good.

"I can't wait to be rid of them. This is where I belong, not crammed in that cabin, surrounded by people. I wonder if they figured out that they can work without me yet?"

* * *

The fourth day since her disappearance arrived. All gathered in the war room, Sera and Varric included.

"My troops in the Hinterlands have found no trace of her. It's like she just...fell off the world," Cullen said somberly while rubbing his eyes.

Leliana sounded utterly defeated. "My agents haven't found anything either. They thought they'd picked up a trail behind the cabin the morning after she left, but it went cold within moments."

Josephine chimed in, "Our allies have heard nothing of her either. No known Fade Rifts have been closed, and she hasn't traded anywhere. Nothing."

"Any progress on her other three legends, Solas?"

The apostate shook his head slowly. With few clues to go on, it was difficult to pick out which ones were definitely her. He didn't wish to divulge any more anyway, as most of the other possibilities were highly disturbing.

"Any word from your "friends," Sera?"

"An elfy elf with a giant demon wolf? Nope, not a word," she grumbled at Leliana with crossed arms.

The room went quiet.

"Where might she have gone?" Cassandra wondered as she leaned on the table.

A small huff of a laugh sounded in the room, and they looked at each other. None had made the sound if their expressions were any clue.

"Maybe you aren't _completely_ hopeless after all," Mithra's voice cooed.

Everyone looked up then and spied her braid dangling from one of the beams above them. It slithered up as she rolled onto her side and peered down at the room.

"You're are adorable when you actually _try_ to work together..you know that?" she said honey in her voice.

Varric tried not to laugh too hard while everyone just gaped at her.

She smiled at Cullen when she saw his eyes begin to glisten. "Don't cry, Templar. I've returned, and I forgive you...for now." Her violet eyes turned to Solas. "And what's this about my legends? Fenlin, you've been sharing with the spymaster? You cheat. Digging through books and stories, trying to guess who or what I've been," she chided Solas playfully.

Solas looked shamed.

She stretched and laughed. "At least someone tried to play that game. I was wondering if anyone would. Not that it would have helped you find me." The ranger slowly lowered herself from the beam then, dropping into a crouch on the war table before Josephine, dressed in Inquisition regalia.

Cassandra's face hardened. "Where have you been?!"

"Proving a point or two," Mithra said flatly as she sat on the edge of the table. She crossed her legs and leaned back slightly, looking pleased with herself. "But I've been around. I might have been out searching for myself with some scouts. Maybe I've been sleeping in the Chantry, curled up above your silly heads. Or perhaps I was doing what I've always done, hiding in the wilderness somewhere, surviving and killing assholes until my rage subsided."

"Or all of those," Varric mumbled humorously.

Her smirk widened at the sight of the amused dwarf. "Nice guess, Durgen'len! Maybe I was, indeed. But I'll never tell, it ruins the trick." Mithra's eyes sparkled with amusement, and she gave him a wink. "And you accused me of being broody... Still think so?"

He raised his hands in surrender and laughed. "You win, Starshine."

When she moved away from the table, Solas stepped forward and took her hands in his. "I'm glad to see you safe, Lethal'lan ." He rubbed his thumbs gently over her knuckles.

"Of course I am, Fenlin. But thank you..I suppose." She wiggled awkwardly and gently removed her hands from his, unsure how to feel about his open display of affection; it was so unlike him.

"Where did you get the uniform?" Cullen asked.

That wicked little grin curled her lip. "You didn't hear? A swarm of nugs raided Seggrit's shop the other day."

Sera laughed then. "That was you?! Good one! Hateful arse deserved it."

Mithra laughed and stood to face Cullen from across the table. "Oh, Commander. You'll be pleased to learn that your horses will arrive in a few hours. Your people finished the watchtowers two days ago. I sent Dennet a message yesterday, asking him to send them ahead. They're traveling toward Haven with some stable hands."

Leliana was growing annoyed. "And how did you learn this?"

Mithra smirked at her. "I sent an owl to check the progress of the towers. When it returned with its report, I borrowed one of your ravens to send with my message...so Dennet could be certain it was from us."

Leliana just stared at her, gaping.

The ranger laughed softly. "You're not the only one with extra eyes and ears, Spymaster." She looked to the seeker then. "And I've received strange reports of Redcliffe. Rifts that are acting...really weird. The crows don't know what to make of them. I suggest we check them out and talk with Fiona while we're there. She may have some idea about what's going on. But first, a nap! I'm beat."

Mithra headed for the door, eager to claim a nap before they departed.

"Ghi'sulelan," Solas called from his place against the wall.

She looked over her shoulder with a sly smile. "Is that the one you shared, Fenlin? Ma serranas, it was kind of you to share my gentlest story."

He grinned at the confirmation and watched her leave.

* * *

She plopped on her bed of furs with a pleased sigh and curled into Josmael's shoulder as he settled in. "Ahh! It's so nice to have these again. Sleeping in trees hurts after a while."

He yawned with a short whine and lay his head on his paws just as someone knocked at her door.

"Fen'edhis! Can't a girl take a nap?" she growled at the intruder.

Leliana entered, looking oddly pleasant. "Impressive work, evading my agents..."

"Spymaster! Do come in," Mithra said with cheery sarcasm as she lay back with her hands behind her head.

"How did you do it?" she asked flatly.

"With help and no small amount of wit." The ranger grinned. "But I doubt you came all the way out here just to ask a question that I'll never really answer. What's on your mind, Leliana?"

The spymaster pursed her lips. "I was wondering if you'd heard anything about the Grey Wardens lately."

"The Wardens? No, can't say I have. Why?"

Leliana sighed. "They seem to have vanished a couple of months ago. No one knows where they might have gone. The others don't share my suspicions, but the timing with all of this..."

Mithra thought for a second. "That is strange. Do you have any leads at all?"

Leliana smiled genuinely at her then. "While our people were out searching for you, they discovered one warden in the Hinterlands. Since you're headed there, I thought I'd ask you to question him for me."

The ranger nodded and returned the smile. "Ma nuvenin. Consider it an apology for the headache I caused you."

"Thank you. His name is Blackwall. He was seen near a small cabin by a lake. He may still be there."

Leliana reached the doorway and looked back at Mithra with sadness in her eyes. "I'm sorry...for what happened to you."

Mithra just shook her head dismissively. "It's in the past, Spymaster. I'd rather not talk about it. But thank you."

Leliana nodded and left, closing the door behind her gently.

Mithra looked far off for a moment then curled up to sleep for a while.

* * *

Thank the Maker she was back. Cullen was beginning to think he- _they_ would never see her again. And she said she forgave him.. Did she mean for the story or for their argument? The commander leaned over the table and prepared to send orders to his troops, calling them back to Haven.

He sighed and rubbed his face. It didn't matter. She would disappear again after she closed the breach. He hoped she would be successful..and that it wouldn't almost kill her next time. He hoped she would change her mind and decide to stay. They did need her, whether she realized it or not.

He felt weary suddenly, thinking about her condition the first time she had tried to close that menacing hole. She had been practically shredded by her landing, bleeding all over, crying out in her sleep. He didn't know her at the time, but over the past few weeks... To see her like that again would tear him apart.

"Thoughts?" Leliana asked as she entered her station.

"Just issuing orders of return to my troops now that she's back," he replied half-heartedly.

The spymaster eyed him coolly. "You must be glad she has returned. Have you spoken to her yet?"

Cullen looked a little excited. "No. Why? Has she said anything?"

Leliana smiled knowingly at him. "No..but, you seem less stressed. You looked..lighter..happier when you saw her."

The commander scowled at her. "She's an asset to this Inquisition. She gets things done. And she's the only one in the world who can close those..Fade holes. Of course, I'm glad she's back with us."

Leliana smiled to herself but ceased teasing the commander. She knew Cullen's secret. How adorable.

* * *

Mithra scooped a handful of snow from the ground and packed the fluffy ice into a firm ball. She had made several snowballs already. Twenty were in a pouch on Danyla's body harness while ten were nestled in a small satchel that rested on her hip.

"Ready to give Cassandra that demonstration, Danyla?" Mithra asked the hart with an amused grin.

The golden beast grunted and tossed her nose into the air repeatedly as if nodding.

"Let's not keep them waiting any longer then," she said as she mounted.

They headed for the smithy, where Danyla was asked to wait. The show would begin in a few minutes, but Mithra needed to gather her audience first.

And she knew just how she was going to claim them.

The ranger headed for the tavern and strolled up to Sera. "So..elves, right?"

Sera looked disgusted. "Says the elfy elf...what do you want?"

"Just to get to know you... You seem like fun," Mithra flirted.

"What do you know about fun? Droopy ears and you-" Sera's insults were interrupted with a snowball to the face. The city elf laughed as the ranger charged out the back door. "Oh! You're dead, _"Lady"_ Herald!"

Mithra didn't even stop to chat with the apostate. She pegged him in the chest with a ball of snow and dashed through the alley toward the Chantry.

Solas sputtered in surprise for a moment, then noticed Sera giving chase while preparing a snowball of vengeance. He chuckled and followed.

Josephine and Leliana were chatting near the Chantry. Mithra slid to a halt and faced Sera. She lined herself up with the spymaster and diplomat, baiting the city elf into her trap.

Sera chunked her ball, and Mithra dropped to her knees. The ball sailed straight at Josie, who cried out when she was struck in the side of the head.

Leliana sneered at the two when Mithra struck her on the ass with a snowball and began running again.

The ranger laughed and headed straight for Varric's usual spot. She lept off the wall and over the fire pit, curling to roll. The three she let fly struck him on the chest and legs as she hit the ground.

Mithra rolled back up to her feet and kept her brisk pace as she descended the stairs. Sera, Leliana, Josie, Varric, and Solas in tow, not too far behind.

The ranger whistled for Danyla to begin her part as she neared the gates.

The hart reared into a charge and met Mithra right in front of the gates, who mounted quickly with a swing from the harness.

Mithra pegged Cullen in the back of the head as they passed the training yard.

He grumbled a complaint as he turned around, looking for his attacker.

When they neared the second trail to the cabin, Danyla turned around sharply and charged the other way.

Mithra crouched on her back then, slipping her feet into two straps on the top of the harness. She stood upright, snowballs at the ready for the seeker.

The hart swooped right around a stunned Cullen, who was now in the middle of the road.

"Cassandra!" the ranger hollered as she neared the tent before the training dummies.

Mithra let two fly as the seeker rounded the corner and Cassandra's face lit with surprise.

"I promised you a demonstration!" The ranger laughed. "Here it is!"

Those she had assaulted in town now stood outside the gates, amused as can be.

Danyla eased down into a lope and turned around again while the elf leaned into the turn, like a modern-day skateboarder.

The ranger freed her feet and eased herself down to sit astride the hart again. She grasped one of the lower handles and leaned down one side, dragging her hand through the snow to gather another ball.

Sera's ball sailed over Danyla's back, where Mithra had just been perched, missing completely. "Piss!"

Varric's had followed close behind, finding the seeker on the other side. "Oops.."

Mithra came back up, laughing as she packed the snow she'd just gathered and took aim at Cullen again. He was ready with a ball of his own, and was prepared to fire with a crooked grin on his face.

She ducked deftly to Danyla's left side to dodge and righted herself with another laugh and a second handful of snow.

Everyone was giving chase now, not content to wait for her to pass again. They'd have their revenge.

Mithra spun around, sitting backward on the loping beast, and launched the two she had just made. She dug into the reserves in the bag and littered their path with snowballs.

She lay back on her graceful mount and laughed like she never had before as they headed for the woods.

Once Danyla passed the gate, Mithra dismounted while the hart kept moving and ran beside her for a moment. She raced for the trees, where she had more stashes waiting and sat, hiding patiently.

The group charged into the area and gazed around for the hart-riding elf.

Mithra gave a hand signal, and Sulara darted out of the treeline, passing the crowd and effectively distracting them for a moment.

The ranger pounced on the opportunity and pivoted out of her hiding place, her arm full of snowballs. She chunked them wildly at the group, all huddled together, an easy target.

They covered their heads as the snow rained down upon them, squealing, shouting, and laughing.

"Spread out! Surround her!" Cullen ordered the group. They complied, going off in all directions, some rushing around to Mithra's far side.

The ranger noticed their positions and that they were slowly closing in on her, but she was out of ammo and had no time to prepare any.

Mithra backed into a clearing, trying to line everyone up just so. She'd performed this trick countless times, though usually with arrows rather than snowballs.

They were close now, all about six feet away, forming a ring around her. They aimed and readied to throw. Cullen gave the order, "Now!"

They threw just as Mithra used his signal for herself, collapsing to the ground and lying flat on her back in the snow.

Everyone struck someone, but none had gotten her.

The ranger laughed so hard tears came to her eyes while they all cussed their misfortune and swatted the packed snow from themselves. She covered her mouth and nose with both hands when she ran out of breath and began quaking in silent laughter.

They all gathered loose armfuls of snow and stood over her giggling form with broad smiles and amused chuckles.

They raised their arms over her and released the snow, burying her in an icy mountain of powder that had fallen the night before.


	15. Return to the Hinterlands

Everyone gathered in the tavern, warming up and laughing over the snowball fight.

"That was fun! Maybe you're alright, _Lady_ Herald.." Sera said flirtatiously.

Mithra put her mug down on the table, and her eyes flicked up at the city elf. A smirk curled the long, verticle scar on her left cheek. "Of course, I'm "alright." I wouldn't have as many friends as I do if I weren't," she rebuffed, referring to the beasts of the wilds rather than actual people.

Solas grinned with an adoring look. "It was amusing, as well as impressive."

The look was not lost on Cullen, who glared at the apostate for it.

Solas eyed Cullen with a cool expression, showing no fear nor interest in the look he had given him.

The commander turned his gaze to Mithra. "Yes, but now we need to get back to business. You all have work to do. Leliana wants you to question this warden over his order's disappearance, and you need to look into those strange rifts you mentioned."

Mithra narrowed her eyes at Cullen, "And talk to the Mages about help with the Breach."

The commander was a little hurt by her expression. He had no intention of pressing her to fetch the Templars any longer, especially not after the tale she had told. He understood her hatred. It was much the same as the animosity he had held toward Mages after his time in the Ferelden Circle. The difference was, he had seen the error of his ways after the Kirkwall Circle fell and was now striving to make up for it. Perhaps he was showing Mithra the same. He hoped so. "Yes, of course," Cullen said uncomfortably and sipped his ale to avoid speaking further.

"Then let us prepare to depart," Cassandra announced while standing; all stood to follow.

Leliana approached the ranger before she could leave the table. "A letter came for you, from the Free Marches."

Mithra took her seat again and read the letter as soon as it was in her hand.

_"Da'len, _

_Thank you for sending word. We were all  
__worried when we learned of the explosion,  
__fearing you had perished in the blast. It is a  
__tragedy, so many lives lost for this war. _

_We have moved deeper into the forest,  
__for now, trying to hide from the fighting.  
__Thank you for the warning, and I hope  
__this Inquisition treats you well while  
__you're with them. _

_Clan Lavellan owes you much. Consider  
yourself__ one of us. If you ever have a  
__need, call, and we will be with you. _

_Dar'eth shiral,  
__Keeper Deshanna Istimaethoriel Lavellan" _

Mithra breathed heavily and blinked on tears.

"Bad news?" Cullen asked softly.

Sorrow laced her voice, "No...quite the opposite, actually. Those I came here for have...accepted me...as one of their own. I have a clan again...if I want it." A family, a clan, offered in gratitude and warm acceptance. She would never be able to accept the offer, however much she wanted it. It twisted in her heart like a knife.

"So what's with the sad eyes?! Congratulations!" Varric cheered after he finished off his mug.

"Yeah..." Mithra got up to leave and headed for her cabin to prepare for departure.

* * *

Cullen and Solas were seated at a small table by the training grounds, playing a game of chess.

"She'll never trust you, Templar, you are aware of that. It is best to stop this foolishness before you get hurt," Solas told him with an icy stare as he moved his mage piece.

"I didn't realize you cared so much about my wellbeing, Apostate. But we have been getting along quite well, I think. And Josmael has become a friend of mine." Cullen grinned as he moved his knight.

"You cannot be something you are not. She will never see past what you were - what you are." Solas moved his tower.

"I am the commander of the Inquisition, not a templar. She has started to realize that. She just needs time and patience." Cullen moved a pawn.

"Are you referring to the patience you displayed in the war room before she disappeared? Well done, Templar." Solas moved his knight as he raised an eyebrow.

It was a low blow. Cullen still hated himself for that day and continued to blame himself for the whole ordeal. "Look, Apostate. None of us had any idea she had endured such...trauma. I didn't intend to upset her. I just wanted her to consider both sides fairly before making a decision." Cullen moved his queen. "But I have no intention of bringing it up again. She will collect the mages, and I will respect it."

Mithra wandered through the area, both harts ready to go. She and Josmael were armored up and armed to the teeth, itching to go into the field to draw some blood. The men ceased their verbal jousting as she approached.

"We're set to go, Solas. When you're ready, we'll depart."

She noticed the board on the small table between them and cheerfully asked, "Good game?"

Cullen gave her a cocky grin. "Very good, thank you." He was certain he was about to win in two turns, and her presence made his impending victory that much sweeter.

Solas moved his tower once more. "Check and mate."

The commander examined the board. "That can't be!"

"It is, Templar. But feel free to double-check." Solas gestured to the board between them.

Cullen looked at every angle, searching for a way out of his defeat and growled. "I expect a rematch, Apostate."

"Gladly. When we return from the Hinterlands, perhaps?" The mage extended his hand for a shake.

The commander took it and gave him an over-tight squeeze while boring his gaze into Solas, a threat.

Solas returned the squeeze, but his face remained cool and calm, unmoved by the heat in his eyes.

"It's just a game. No need to get so worked up about it.." Mithra said before a young man in a mercenary uniform caught her eye.

"Can I help you?" Mithra asked when she neared him.

"I've got a message for the Inquisition." He explained in a deep, professional tone.

The ranger detected that the depth was forced to some degree, but waved it off as a young merc posturing so he'd be taken seriously.

"Speak, soldier. Who are you with?" she quizzed, not recognizing the uniform.

"The Bull's Chargers, Miss. Our company commander, The Iron Bull, wishes to work with the Inquisition. He thinks you're doing good work."

"Anything I should know about your company or commander?" Mithra asked.

"We work mostly in Orlais and Nevarra. You can ask around; we have references. We've never messed up a job and have a solid reputation. Our commander is one of those Qunari, ya know, the..big guys...with the horns?"

"I do know, called a few "falon" over the years. But do you mean "Vashoth" or actual "The Qun is my life" Qunari?" Mithra asked curiously. She'd known plenty of Vashoth, but very rarely met any Qunari.

"I'm...unsure, ma'am. He wants to meet with you. We discovered a band of Tevinter mercenaries on the Storm Coast. Meet us there and see what we can offer the Inquisition," he offered professionally.

"I'll consider it. Ma serranas." She nodded and resumed her walk toward the readied mounts.

* * *

They reached the Hinterlands in a little under two days this time. The heartier horses made a notable difference, and all were glad for it.

"The lake should be up on that hill. I camped there once when I was a kid. Let's hope there isn't a memory rift in the area..I'm tired of my life being on display." Mithra pinched the bridge of her nose and headed uphill, toward the old ruins known as Calenhad's Foothold.

"Wait..wha? What's a memory rift?" Sera asked.

Mithra sighed. "Oh yeah, you've never been out with us... You'll see. Just watch what you say. I can turn into a mess if we see something I don't like." She smirked then. "Or perhaps I'll turn you into a mess. Guess we'll find out."

Mithra ceased her teasing as they reached the top of the hill, passing under a ruined bridge.

The ranger glared. "Elgar'nan! A rift...that's just brilliant."

Then it popped, showing the party yet another of her memories from her early teen years.

* * *

** _ "Wake up!" Danyla chirped from below. _ **

** _ Mithra gasped as she woke, much to the older elf's delight. _ **

** _ "Mythal's Mercy, Dani! The sun hasn't even shown itself yet!" She groused. _ **

** _ "Come on, Grouch!" Danyla teased as she gathered her bow and quiver. "Let's get some breakfast. I've been up for an hour already." _ **

** _ "Where's Sulara?" Mithra asked her retreating sibling. _ **

** _ "Probably finding breakfast, unlike some of us!" Dani called back. _ **

** _ The young ranger let her head hit the trunk of the tree behind her, making a dull clunking sound. She looked sad and weary. _ **

** _ She sat up from her beech perch and shook her head, tears threatening to emerge. _ **

** _ Mithra fumbled with the buckles to the straps keeping her upon her verdant tower and sighed heavily, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She gathered herself before hopping down a couple of branches and landing on the damp ground. _ **

** _ She gathered the straps she recently freed herself from and wrapped them around her hand until they made a neat circle. She then reached for her pack, stuffing them in when she had it in hand. She exchanged them for a bow and quiver. She strapped the quiver around her waist then secured the smaller strap around her thigh. _ **

* * *

Sera's eyes were wide as they turned to Mithra. "What the frig was that!?"

After the demons were defeated, Mithra answered as she sealed the rift, "My memory. One of many to be seen. Don't ask too many questions, please. It's...a touchy subject."

"Riiiiight...but do they only show yours?" Sera asked suspiciously.

The ranger waved her marked hand as she explained, "So far, yes. I think it's because this damned thing is attached to me. The rifts seem to respond to my presence, and the Fade shows everyone scenes like we just saw when I get close."

"Wha-eva.."

Mithra rolled her eyes. "The warden should be near the lake ahead, let's just get this over with."

* * *

A stocky, bearded man paced back and forth in front of a few young men, instructing them as Cullen often does his recruits.

"...your shield. Remember, you're not hiding, you're holding. Otherwise, it's useless."

"Warden Blackwall?" The ranger asked upon approach.

He turned and approached the team swiftly. "Why do you know my name?" He shouted suddenly and raised his shield, blocking the arrow that had sailed for Mithra's head.

"Well, that's lovely. More people that want me dead," Mithra chirped as she turned to face the assailants, now charging toward them.

"Help or get out. We're dealing with these idiots!" The warden barked and turned to rally his recruits. "Alright, men, here they come!" he declared and charged into battle.

The ranger opted for her bow this round, punching holes in leather armor as if it were silk.

Cassandra and Josmael joined the warden in the thick of things. Together they took down a fair number of them quickly.

The recruits made a decent attempt to keep up with the two seasoned warriors, blocking easy blows and cutting one down each. Unfortunately, none made clean kills, and the bandits suffered at their hands. It was fine by them; the bastards had caused them a lot of trouble over the last few weeks.

As soon as the dust settled, the warden dismissed his recruits, telling them to return to their families and take back what the apparent bandits had taken from them.

He turned to Mithra just as they departed. "Now then..who are you and how do you know of me?" the dark-haired warden asked a little nervously.

Mithra cut right to the chase, "The Inquisition has questions, Warden. It seems your order has gone missing. We were wondering if their disappearance has anything to do with the murder of the Divine."

"Maker's balls! The Wardens and the Divine? That can't...No. One thing I'll tell you: no Warden killed the Divine; our purpose isn't political."

"What's the "Warden Purpose" got to do with training farmers to fight bandits?" the ranger quizzed a little suspiciously.

The warden paced like a caged bear. "This was different. I was in the area, recruiting as I always have. I heard about the stealing and "conscripted" their victims. They won't need me the next time they're attacked."

Mithra crossed her arms. "Fair enough.. So, where might the rest of your order have gone?"

Blackwall faltered. "Maaaybe they returned to our fortress at Weishaupt? It's in the Anderfells, a long way north. I don't rightly know."

She had enough; she obviously wasn't going to get anything helpful out of him. "Well...thanks for your time, Warden."

As she turned to go, he called out to her eagerly, "Inquisition... Agent..did you say?! Hold a moment. The Divine is murdered, and the sky is ripped apart. This may not be a Blight, but it's bloody well a disaster. If you're trying to put things right, maybe you need a warden; maybe you need me."

Mithra considered a moment. He was a skilled warrior, and it would make Cassandra's job easier. "Alright, Warden Blackwall. I accept your offer."

"Thank you. We both need to know what's going on. Perhaps I've been keeping to myself for too long."

He eyed the oversized wolf at her side, remembering how he had pounced on a few bandits and tore them asunder. "He doesn't bite, does he?"

The ranger laughed before answering, "He does a lot more than bite, Warden. As long as you're good, he won't bite _you_, though."

Their team was now six, and they took off toward the farmlands, near the horse master's land. Blackwall had mentioned that the bandits made camp in that area, and Mithra was happy to clear them out. Bandits were assholes in general, preying on any and all.

* * *

They passed a rift that, thankfully, held no memories. The demons were easily dispatched, especially with the warden aiding the seeker in battle.

"I thought you said they show memories.." Sera pouted.

Mithra gave her a hard look. "What? You _want_ to see my life story?"

"Not really, you and your boring elfy life.. Keep it."

The ranger's eyes rolled. "Then why do you sound so disappointed?"

"Maybe I like seeing you pissed. You're kinda cute when you rage," Sera teased.

Mithra rubbed her temples with a scowl on her face.

"Your brood is showing, Starshine," Varric taunted with a chuckle.

"Memories?" the warden quizzed.

"You'll see...unfortunately." She sighed wearily. "Let's just clear these bandits out, alright?"


	16. Ironbark and Bloodbaths

The group came upon a heavily fortified area with bandits all around. Mithra knew this area, and which rift would pop up next. The party would be aflutter with questions over what they would see. She was growing pissed at the thought of it already.

"Be cautious, they're thick here," Blackwall warned.

Mithra was glad to have several opponents, thirsting for blood in the wake of her growing rage. She brandished her favorite white antler blades and dashed in ahead of the rest.

Josmael charged ahead of her quickly. He took one to the ground and shook his arm violently, and the bandit shrieked in his grasp.

The ranger launched herself toward two nearby bandits and slashed their throats and bellies.

The warriors of her party finally caught up to her while chewing her ass for her recklessness.

"Are you mad?!" Cassandra growled at her.

"Yes...yes, I am, Seeker! What of it?!" Mithra roared as she spun at another with blades outstretched to taste bandit flesh.

"You'll get yourself killed charging in like that!" the warden bellowed.

"Hasn't yet, Warden! Now duck!" she cried as a guy with a giant hammer took a horizontal sweep for Blackwall's head.

He ducked and jammed his blade into the bandit's gut, taking him out of the fight instantly.

"Maybe you should worry more about yourself. I'm doing just fine," Mithra chided hotly as she slit another throat.

When all lay dead, Mithra flicked her daggers toward the dirt. Blood painted the ground in two lovely arches. "Artistry at it's finest," she cooed, pleased with the bandit corpses strewn about.

The warriors stormed over to chew her ass some more, but Mithra just turned the corner, ready to get the next rift and the impending questions out of the way.

There it was, and it already started to shift as the rest of the party caught up.

Blackwall watched in awe as the scene unfolded.

* * *

**_The girls approached a wizened old lady that seemed more than a little down. _**

**_"An'daran atish'an, Keeper," Danyla said with a respectful bow of her head; Mithra followed her sister's lead. "We are Danyla and Mithra formerly of Clan-" Dani stopped, refusing to say. _**

**_The Keeper quizzed, "Formerly?" _**

**_"Yes, Keeper, I came into my magic a few years ago. They had too many mages, and my little sister chose to come with me to keep me safe," Dani explained cheerfully. _**

**_The girls displayed the basket of fresh fish. "We bring breakfast for your clan." _**

**_The Keeper smiled and greeted them warmly, "An'daran atish'an, Da'len'en. I am Keeper Marethari of Clan Sabrae. I thank you for this gift." _**

**_A girl with short, dark hair approached then, walking quickly with an armful of supplies. _**

**_"And this is my First, Merrill," Marethari introduced. _**

**_"An'daran atish'an." Merrill greeted with a warm smile and quick bow before going back to her business. _**

**_"What troubles you, Keeper?" Mithra finally asked. _**

**_Marethari sighed. "We recently lost two good hunters, and there's a Blight looming in the south. We're moving north, to the Free Marches. One of our hunters was stricken by the Blight sickness and has been recruited by the Grey Wardens." _**

**_"And the other?" Dani asked worriedly. _**

**_The Keeper's face fell. "Simply vanished." _**

**_The girls exchanged sorrowful looks, and Mithra sadly said, "We're sorry for your loss." _**

**_Dani interjected, "Keeper Marethari, if I may..my sister and I are skilled hunters. If you would allow us to travel to the Free Marches with you, we could help your clan in the hunt." _**

**_Marethari eyed the two youths thoughtfully. "Perhaps. I'll speak with the clan and see if they'd be comfortable with it." _**

**_The two girls bowed respectfully. "Ma nuvenin, Keeper. Ma serranas." _**

**_"In the meantime, feel free to trade and mingle. I imagine you two have some stories of your travels. It could soothe some hearts in light of recent events." _**

**_The girls nodded another bow and handed the basket of fish to two hunters that came to collect it. _**

* * *

Blackwall was the first to say, "The Hero of Ferelden's clan?! Warden-Commander Ashara Mahariel!? "

"Yes. We were...raised by them for a short time," Mithra answered while fishing through bandit pockets.

"If you traveled to the Free Marches with them, then you knew Hawke! You knew Daisy!" Varric squawked.

"Your sister is a mage?" Cassandra quizzed.

"YEEEES...but she wasn't _just_ a Mage, she was a very talented one. She was in the running to be the First of our clan when she was ten years old. Then... Well, you know."

"But you told them that-" Cassandra started.

Mithra cut in, "I told _you_ the truth. We lied to everyone else about why we were clanless for years. We disliked pity. We didn't need nor want it. We had each other, and we were trained for survival from the time we could speak complete sentences. We did just fine on our own. She's dead. That's all you need to know. Do _not_ ask me about my sister any further. Now, Varric - Who's Daisy?"

Varric looked disappointed. "Daisy...? Dalish girl..? Hung out with Hawke...? The Champion of Kirkwall...?"

The ranger gave him a blank look. "I remember the Hawke family. Nice people, especially the mother, Leandra, was it? But I never knew a "Daisy."

"Tale of The Champion..?" Varric offered slowly, as if it should be obvious.

"Fiction, I take it?"

Varric threw his hands up in surrender. "The girl called "Merrill." Merrill is Daisy."

"Why didn't you just say so, Durgen'len?" Mithra grinned mischievously.

Solas chuckled, knowing that Mithra had him on. He'd caught her reading The Tale of The Champion weeks ago, though she had tried to hide it. _"Research"_ she'd called it when he finally got her to admit it days later.

"Are you finished bombarding me with questions? Can we move on now?" Mithra asked while holding her arms out in excessive irritation. "There are bandits to the north, according to this note. Can we go kill them, please? Questions make me want to kill things."

Josmael huffed and barked in agreement. He enjoyed terrifying bandits more than anything but killing them suited him just fine too.

"Let us be off then," Cassandra announced, and the party started northward through the woods.

After several minutes, and a bit of idle chatter, they ran into another rift.

"Elgar'naaannn!" Mithra complained, knowing that there was yet another memory to be seen.

* * *

**_It was a minor one in which Mithra, her sister, and a handful of Sabrae's hunters were traveling through the area, searching for a source of Ironbark that Mithra had discovered a few days before. _**

**_Mithra puzzled over a red-headed teen that was being trained in fundamental tracking skills - skills that she had learned at the age of six. _**

**_"Pol is a city elf. He recently joined the clan. Junar has been given the task of training him to be a hunter," an older elf explained while walking next to Mithra. _**

**She****_ couldn't help the note of wonder in her voice, "Your clan takes in city elves, Master Ilen?" _**

**_Master Ilen, a middle-aged man with grey hair and a gentle voice, gave her a doubtful look. "Of course, Da'len. They're elves too." _**

**_"Yes, of course, Master. It's just our clan was not quite as..openhanded as Sabrae." The ranger looked down sadly._**

* * *

"Oh! I forgot all about it!" Mithra said giddily.

"Why so excited, Starshine?" Varric teased.

"Ironbark! There's a tree nearby! I remember it being tucked in a cave near here. That's where we were headed in this memory!" she beamed joyously.

The dwarf chuckled. "See? Some good is coming of us watching your life story."

Mithra ran forward, eager to rediscover the stash. "There must be a ton of it by now! Come on!"

After a few more minutes and winding through several dead pines, she spotted the cave.

"There!" She ran for the opening then stopped dead in her tracks. Another rift was within, right over the tree.

"I hope these rifts don't damage the bark...it's so hard to find, and I'm nearly out of my favorite crafting material," the ranger worried aloud as she approached the rift. She was itching to collect the piles of bark she saw all around it.

"It shouldn't, though it may have some hidden effect now that it has been touched by the Fade," Solas offered.

* * *

**_Master Ilen stood beside Mithra, eyes aglow with awe. "Da'len...I will teach you all I know of crafting for this," he pledged. _**

**_The young ranger squealed and bounced in place._**

* * *

"So, that's where you learned your woodworking skills." Cassandra smiled at Mithra, who was dashing around, collecting the pieces that she fancied the most. She couldn't take it all right then, the animals didn't have the room in their packs.

"Yup! I was taught by the best: Master Ilen of Clan Sabrae. He is renowned for his bows among the Dalish, but he's a Master Craftsman in general. He taught me everything he knew in two short years. If I wasn't tanning leather or carving something by his side, I was watching him train his apprentice or training in combat. I traded and worked for further training with other clans after I left them when I resumed my travels."

"Why did you leave? You seemed happy with them," Blackwall asked.

Mithra stopped in her tracks and quit breathing; everyone went still when they noticed. Cassandra knew the question had crossed the elf's boundaries just by seeing her slightly hunched posture and blank stare.

Solas cut in, "It's a very...sensitive topic. Please respect her privacy on the matter."

Mithra turned, not quite looking at him with misty eyes, and nodded slightly. She turned away from the treasure trove of bark and cleared her throat, though her voice still cracked as she said, "The bandits shouldn't be far. I remember the tower that these orders speak of."

* * *

Up the way, they spotted several sentinels, guarding the path to the fortress. Half of them were the big bastards with hammers. Mithra fondled her whistle, chewing her lip as she thought.

Solas noticed her contemplative expression and couldn't help but grin at her. She so rarely used her ranger ability in their presence. He had enjoyed witnessing its effects; especially when she shimmered when some real power was put into it. He had basked in the sensation when he first felt it, finding it both empowering and soothing. She hadn't glowed since the night she summoned Josmael and the girls, however.

"Going to call some friends for help?" Solas finally asked.

"Thinking about it. Just trying to imagine what would be most helpful in this situation," Mithra said as she eyed the heavy-handed bandits.

She pressed the wooden cylinder to her lips and focussed on the songs she wished to play, hearing them in her mind before putting out the calls. Barely visible waves radiated from her as she called to the creatures she had in mind. It appeared as waves of heat rather than light, but Solas could still feel it, soft as it was.

The screeching cry of an eagle radiated through the air. The call was answered swiftly. Six eagles gathered overhead, circling as they cried their hellos to her.

She called again; the huff and low roar of a bear emanated from her whistle. Four bears in the area steadily lumbered in the party's direction immediately after.

Sera eyed the beasts as they passed right behind the party. "Piss balls! Beeeaaaarrrsss..."

Blackwall grasped the hilt of his sword, preparing to engage. He was stopped by Cassandra, who put a firm hand on his forearm and shook her head slowly.

"Don't worry, they're on our side. Well, my side." Mithra smirked at the nervous pair.

She looked to the eagles first and blew a few screeches of instruction at them, trilling a broken song.

They broke their circle, and half of them dive-bombed and screamed through the air at the heads of the biggest enemies, passing just inches above them. The others followed shortly, swooping down at them, talons extended, screaming in a terrible choir at the bandits.

The bandits shouted and ducked. A few dropped their weapons and covered their heads, huddling on the ground to avoid the birds.

Mithra cracked up. She loved scaring the shit out of people, especially pricks that deserved it. She signaled the bears to begin their assault with a simple hand gesture.

They bellowed angrily and charged, huffing and roaring as they fell upon the bandits.

"Right! Let's move while they're panicked!" the ranger cheered and got right in the thick of things. She danced around and ducked under bear paws, slipping behind enemies to sever the straps of their armor. She spun around and away when one noticed her for a moment, lost again in the furry crowd.

She giggled delightedly when one screamed and clutched at his crumbling armor. The grizzly he was facing took full advantage and mauled the panicking bandit, shredding him with teeth and claws until he was beyond recognition.

Eagles clawed with their talons and tore at faces with their beaks, blinding and disabling those few in light armor who wore no helmets. Mithra took the opportunity to punch a few arrows in each to aid her feathered army and put the bastards out of their misery.

When all the bandits finally lay dead, she noticed that she was alone among the beasts. She spun to face the party, her blood-splattered face alight with victory and adrenalin.

Disgusted expressions were plastered on Sera, Varric, and Cassandra's faces. Blackwall was utterly stunned by the carnage, while Solas was blank as ever, though his eyes showed a glimmer of disapproval. The apostate was torn. Mithra's display was feral and bloody, but her grace in the chaos was something to behold. Her methods were brutal, to say the least, but it was the joy she had expressed in the battle that he frowned upon.

Mithra sneered when their expressions registered at last. "Thanks for the help."

"What was-?" Cassandra stopped, unable to find the words.

Mithra looked to the sky, still panting and trembling from the rush of a good fight. "_That_, Seeker, is how I've managed to survive for the past..decade. It's my way, and it's what I do best. It's just one reason why I don't care to keep companions or grow attached to people. Most can't handle it, but I thought you could; as many people as we've killed together. I see now that I put too much faith in you. I live and breathe this." Mithra turned to her and gestured to herself with both hands. "_This_ is me."

While the ranger waded into the shallow lake to wash, Blackwall eyed the gore. Had he decided to follow the right person? This Mithra woman was visceral. However, this must not be a regular occurrence since the seeker seemed so shocked. He watched the eagles feast on the fresh corpses, some fighting for exceptional pickings. Ravens and crows joined in from the surrounding woods, vying for a good spot to grab some dinner.

Blackwall's thoughts shattered when Mithra asked, "Did the term "wild elf" not click when I said it? Because that's precisely what I am. _Wild_, even to the Dalish. I am bestial. Feral. Take your pick."

At least she was honest about herself.

He observed the bears as they moved to surround her. She scratched them lovingly while smiling as if she were greeting children and offered them berries, which the beasts accepted with stunning gentleness.

It seemed she had some tenderness to her, which made her brutality somewhat forgivable.

"Ma serranas, iovr'en. Dar atisha," she dismissed, and the bears wandered back into the woods lazily, leaving Mithra and her companions unharmed.

"Well? Speak," Mithra demanded when she lost her patience at long last.

Blackwall started for the fortress. "There are bandits to finish. Let's clear them out and make camp. There isn't much light left."

"Sounds good to me, Warden," Mithra agreed, and everyone else followed without a word.


	17. Strange Rifts

While Mithra and Josmael were out hunting, the party huddled around a small fire on the upper level of the fortress.

Varric and Sera dropped their last loads of firewood and took their seats as Blackwall remarked, "I've never seen anything like it." He rubbed his hands and turned them to the fire. "Was that the first time she'd done that? In front of you?"

Cassandra nodded and looked up from the flames. "Yes. It seems so unlike her. She has a sense of humor. She is also kind and has a righteous heart, but I never imagined she was capable of such carnage." She looked back to the blaze. "However, she has a temper and seems to enjoy battle. Still, it is hard to imagine her doing something like..that."

Solas asserted, "It's not so hard to imagine."

"Are you joking? It was repulsive. Disturbing." Cassandra argued.

"The world can be disturbing, Seeker. The animals acted within their nature. She just asked them to do it to help her at that moment. Ravens and crows always eat the dead. Bears maul people. Eagles go for the eyes. It is the way of things."

Cassandra looked disgusted. "Don't tell me you approve of that carnage?!"

He hissed, "I wouldn't say I approve of it, but it is what it is. She did what she had to in order to survive with what resources she has at her disposal. Asking beasts to do what they always do just happens to be in her resource pool. What I disapprove of is the joy she took in the massacre."

"Yeah, that was the worst part in my book, too, Chuckles. All of it was bad, though." Varric added as he poked at the fire.

"It was all creepy, yeah? That laugh..blood and meat all over.." Sera shuddered and turned her palms to the fire.

"So nice to hear you finally talk about it. I thought you would cold-shoulder me forever," Mithra said as she rounded the corner with Josmael, a fresh ram strapped to his back. "Hungry?"

Everyone squirmed and looked ashamed to have been caught talking about her.

The ranger laughed nervously and picked at her nails. "I'm sorry. For what happened earlier, but Solas is correct. I do what I must, just like with that Templar by the river. I should know by now that I can rely on you in battle. I don't have to call the beasts to battle with you here. I'll try to avoid doing it if I can. As for the laugh, well..I get a little carried away sometimes. Fighting among beasts has always been thrilling to me."

Mithra smiled apologetically and patted the dead ram. "Can I try to make it up to you? Let me cook dinner tonight."

Everyone forced a smile and nodded tightly.

"Great! I've already gathered everything for my stew."

After much skinning, cleaning, carving, and chopping, the stew was over the fire in a medium-sized pot.

Mithra and Josmael sat away from the rest. While the wolf made a meal of the carcass, she carved the remaining cuts of meat into strips for drying.

Heat invaded her eyes, and tears soon followed. She'd gone too far, hadn't she? Would they ever talk to her again? She showed too much of herself much too early. As if these stupid rifts weren't going to over time.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Warden Blackwall reach for the pot. She picked up a piece of kindling and lobbed it at his hand. When he jerked back, Mithra rumbled, "Not yet. Soon."

The warden rubbed his hand as he sat back down.

Varric chuckled. "Women. "How do they always know," right?"

Everyone around the fire laughed, finally breaking the awkward silence among them.

Mithra's tears spilled when she smiled. She sighed heavily, sniffed, and wiped her eyes with her fist. Maybe the situation with them wasn't as dire as she feared.

Josmael nosed her leg and whined.

"I'm okay, Isa. Thank you." She cleared her throat and resumed her work.

She honestly liked them all, but she would have to leave them behind once the breach was sealed.

She held back a sob, and her face reddened under the strain.

She would go back to the wilds, sealing rifts all over Thedas. That would be her new fate. Eliminating slavers and bandits would become secondary.

With her legs becoming numb, Mithra cleared her throat and blinked away the rest of her tears. She stood as she wiped her cheeks before heading toward the fire.

The moment Mithra removed the lid, the stew's aroma filled the air, and stomachs let their eagerness be known. She laughed brightly upon hearing the choir, her eyes still shining.

Shamed smiles graced the faces of all but Sera, who was unabashedly drooling.

"Food's on? Good! I'm starving!"

Everyone took a hearty helping and got to eating.

Sera slurped loudly. With a full mouth and broth trailing down her chin, she said, "Thirsh irsh shooo gerd!"

"Have you no manners? Swallow before speaking. You're making a mess of yourself." Solas reprimanded before sipping the broth from his bowl in a dignified manner.

"Whateva! This stuff is amazing! More, please!" Sera begged while holding out her bowl for a refill.

"See? She has some manners." Mithra laughed as she wielded the ladle to refill the Sera's bowl.

As she settled down to sleep, Cassandra politely remarked, "It was delicious, thank you."

Blackwall was astounded by the city elf's appetite. "Where does it all go?"

"I don't know, but I'm stuffed. Nice work, Starshine. Good eats," Varric praised as he relaxed against the tower and crossed his stubby legs.

Mithra smiled graciously. "Thanks, Varric." She stood and stretched. "Ugh..sleep. On nydha. Err..goodnight."

Everyone echoed the "Goodnight" as she returned to Josmael, who had finished his ram.

Mithra and Josmael curled up together on her furs, and she passed out almost immediately.

* * *

The party woke to find the ranger missing.

"Not again.." Varric sighed and smoothed his hair back.

"She's must be somewhere. Maybe she went to find breakfast?" Cassandra guessed hopefully.

"She's in the lake, near the falls. I noticed her departure when I awoke," Solas announced as he casually looked down from his vantage point.

The group neared the wall, and there she was, playing with a bear, her cubs, and Josmael in the lake below.

The wolf dashed around, splashing everywhere while she flung water at him with her hands. The bear soon grew hungry and busied itself with fishing while her young joined the wolf and elf in their game.

Mithra squealed with delight as the colossal wolf charged by her, soaking the meager outfit of very short pants and a top that didn't cover much more than a breast band. Her hair was let loose, water leaping from it as she lunged and dodged.

The cubs circled her, loping around and tumbling joyously. They grappled and splashed, sending waves every which way. One of them tried to grasp the ranger herself.

Mithra squealed happily and ran, dodging her pursuer at every turn as the cub gave chase. She finally gave in to its game and wrestled with the miniature bear as its brother did; arms wrapped around the neck, growling and taking it to the ground.

Soon, the cub had enough of wrestling with Mithra and took to chasing the wolf instead, leaving her alone near the falls. She noticed her audience then and waved with a bright smile. "Good morning!" she sang up to them happily.

Cassandra and the rest suddenly felt intrusive but returned the wave politely.

Solas felt no such shame and watched her intently, his face serene as ever.

Mithra slipped behind the falls then, disappearing from view.

* * *

After a breakfast of fresh fish roasted over a spit, they headed back the Crossroads and mounted up, starting their journey to Redcliffe at last.

The ranger sang a song nearly at a whisper as they ambled up the road:

"Melava inan enansal..  
ir su araval tu elvaral...  
u na emma abelas...  
in elgar sa vir mana...  
in tu setheneran din emma na."

"lath sulevin...  
lath araval ena...  
arla ven tu vir mahvir...  
melana' nehn...  
enasal ir sa..letha'lin"

"If you're going to sing, Starshine, at least do it so the rest of us can understand it," Varric joked.

Mithra's eyes widened slightly. They'd been listening, even at a whisper? "That would ruin the song, Durgen'len! Would you rather hear something that sounds pretty or know that it's a sad song?" the ranger teased.

He grinned. "Fair enough, Starshine."

They came to a crest in the road and saw a guard running from Redcliffe in a panic.

"Keep a constant watch on that damned thing!" the guard cried back to one of her fellow watchmen.

"What's happening?" Mithra demanded as she drew near.

"One of those...things appeared in front of the gates! Turn back!"

Solas so astutely presented, "It would seem there's a rift ahead."

They ran on foot from there, not wanting the mounts to get caught in a demon battle. As they neared the gates, they could see that the rift was already open and, as the crows had told her, it was acting...really weird.

Mithra rushed near, bow in hand. Unfortunately, she ran into one of the areas the rift was affecting. Everyone else seemed to rush ahead at an alarming pace suddenly, and her brow furrowed at their incredible speed.

What was going on? She exited the affected zone, and everything was moving as it should again.

The ranger puzzled and stepped backward to test what had just happened, trying to replicate the effect. Everything else sped up again. That was weird. The crows weren't kidding.

The ground glowed beneath Mithra. Shit. Terror demon. She wasted no time jumping to the right.

Everything else slowed down to a snail's pace then. Ok, this was really starting to creep Mithra out now. She fired just the same, killing the demon in three shots.

Cassandra seemed to be shouting, but her voice sounded way too low and slow to Mithra's ears. She hadn't understood a thing the seeker had said.

The ranger stepped forward, and everything sped up to its natural pace. She spotted Sera in another area, moving ridiculously slow.

Were these rifts..distorting time? Weird.

She got a brilliant idea then and stepped back into the zone that had sped her up, making everything else appear slow. Her arrows flew at remarkable speed, finishing the demons quickly. She couldn't help but look at Sera again, who seemed to not be moving at all now that Mithra was in the quickened zone.

Without wasting another minute, the ranger approached the rift and sealed it; nothing unusual about the process, thankfully.

Mithra looked to Solas. "That rift...it...messed with time! Distorted it! How is that possible?!"

Solas nodded, "The Fade has been altered here, in a way I have never seen. We must be cautious."

"We should speak to the Grand Enchanter," Cassandra suggested.

Mithra looked to Josmael with a wink. "There will be many people here, Da'fen. Wait out here and hide. We don't need that many people stampeding to flee from your exceptional self."

He grumbled his wolfy laugh and headed for the brush.


	18. Redcliffe

They neared the tavern known as "The Gull and Lantern" upon the hill in Redcliffe. Mithra was wrapped tightly in her brown cloak, shivering nervously as she passed through the sea of bodies standing all around.

They finally entered the building, and the ranger's eyes adjusted to the dim interior. "Great..the crowd is even tighter here," Mithra grumbled.

"Welcome, Agents of the Inquisition. What has brought you to Redcliffe?" Grand Enchanter Fiona greeted cautiously.

While Cassandra asserted that she'd invited them in Val Royeaux, Mithra stood back. Her skin crawled among all of these warm bodies, packed together like cattle. She silently prayed that this meeting would be brief.

When it was revealed that the Mages had pledged themselves to the Tevinter Imperium, Mithra's attention snapped to Fiona, and she listened carefully. She no longer held the authority to negotiate with the Inquisition because a Magister had made Fiona an offer she couldn't refuse. The mages were "indentured" to the Imperium, meaning that the Mages would be traveling to Tevinter to gain their freedom rather than continue to fight for it in the South.

Were the Mages so desperate? Tevinter was well-known for some shifty shit: slavery and blood magic being the most famous two.

Fiona looked shamed as the tavern door opened.

Two men that shared some resemblance entered in hooded robes. Mithra bristled at the way the newcomer called them "friends." How completely fake can one person be?

This "Alexius," as he called himself, was a total slimeball that oozed deceit with every word and gesture. He explained the finer details of the deal he had struck with the Rebel Mages. They'd have to work off their debt to Tevinter by joining their legion for ten whole years before actually being free citizens of the Imperium, which screamed "slavery" in Mithra's head.

Suddenly distressed, Fiona argued that not all of her people were suited to military life. There were many children and elderly people among them.

He turned back to her with a scowl and pressed that they would all be valuable members of the Imperium once their debts were paid. In time, he also revealed that he had arrived two days after the shit hit the fan.

It seemed very strange just how quickly he'd come. Tevinter was weeks away. While Mithra had never gone to Tevinter, she had been to southern Nevarra. From Ferelden, that trip took her nearly a whole month on a much younger Sulara. No way did this guy cover that distance in just two days.

He turned his attention to the ranger, and she went rigid as he said, "And you are the survivor, yes? The one from the Fade? ..Interesting."

Mithra finally growled, "Let's talk business, Alexius."

"Felix, would you send for a scribe, please?" They sat at a table, and he continued to ooze as he spoke, every word like poison in the ranger's blood.

Felix, the young man that had entered with Alexius, approached. He gave Mithra a polite bow and a genuine smile as he was introduced as Mr. Greasy's son.

The ranger returned the smile. At least Felix didn't inherit his dad's creepiness. Mithra felt a little better. His eyes were sincere when he smiled; that was probably it.

Mithra and Alexius chatted about the possibility of borrowing the mages until Felix returned to the table, hunched and looking pained.

She stood to assist him. The one genuine person in the situation, and he looked to be dying before them all. Mithra caught him when he stumbled, and he discreetly pressed a note into the elf's hand on impact.

Alexius panicked and rushed the young man away, taking Fiona with him to treat his son's apparent illness. "We'll conclude this business at a later date. Please excuse us."

Mithra peered at the note when the door shut behind the three. "Come to the Chantry. You are in danger.. No shit, sweetheart."

* * *

They entered the Redcliffe Chantry to find a handsome mocha-complected fellow beating demons with a stick. It turns out, the rod was actually a staff.

"Finally! I thought you'd never arrive! Now help me close this thing, would you?" he asked cheerfully, despite the demon-spewing rift behind him.

It was another of those crazy time rifts. Mithra had explained what she figured out about them as they had wandered down the long, crowded road leading toward Redcliffe. Now, each member of the party tested out areas throughout the building as they fought, determining where the sped up areas of effect were located. They'd plant themselves within to kill more swiftly once they were discovered.

When everything lay dead except for the party and the cheerful young man, the ranger closed the rift, and the handsome stranger watched the process intently.

He peered around after it popped and remarked, "Fascinating. How do you do that, exactly?"

Mithra gave him a slightly puzzled look.

A short laugh escaped the stranger. "You don't even know, do you?"

She regained enough of herself to ask, "Who are you?"

"Ah! I'm getting ahead of myself again, I see! Dorian of House Pavus," He introduced cheerfully with a polite bow. "Most recently of Minrathous. How do you do?"

The ranger expressed her concerns about meeting Felix and his apparent illness.

This "Dorian" explained that Felix was indeed ill and that his father, the slimeball, was likely being a mother hen.

Felix stepped out of the shadows then, and the two young Tevinter men explained the whole situation: Time magic, a cult, and how said cult wanted Mithra. They guessed it was due to her involvement at the temple or that she could close the rifts. If that was true, this cult was even worse than Felix had feared.

Mithra smirked and shook her head. "All of this for me. And I didn't get Alexius anything."

Dorian tilted his chin up at her. "Send him a fruit basket. Everyone loves those."

Dorian and Felix excused themselves and left. The mocha Tevinter had said he'd be in touch but wasn't going to hang around Redcliffe lest Alexius discover him. Something about that made the ranger trust him. He was hiding from someone that was obviously her enemy. She smirked. Her enemy's enemy was her friend, right?

Mithra remembered then that they had some business to attend to. Vale had mentioned needing a healer shortly after they arrived in the Crossroads. She was sure she would find one here.

* * *

The ranger's relief was evident when they finally exited the gates, now back in the open countryside. "Mythal'enaste! I thought I'd never escape that..._sea_!"

"What's your deal with crowds, anyway?" Varric teased.

"It's just plain old paranoia. It's especially bad if they're all staring at me: it makes me feel like a target. Generally speaking, shit can go bad fast in a crowd, and there are no real exit strategies for that sort of situation. Being trampled by panicked people does not sound like fun, thank you. Besides, I'd rather have fresh air than a sea of smelly, sweaty bodies any day."

Varric was reminded of Kirkwall after the Chantry explosion. "Good point."

Solas spoke up, "If we may...I detected an elvhen artifact on our way here. It is an item that may help to strengthen the Veil. Could we take a look?"

Sera mocked Solas' ever-dignified posture. "The Veil is girlish here."

While the apostate cut the city elf a sideways glance, Mithra smiled at him. "Absolutely. It sounds useful."

* * *

As they neared the area Solas wished to search, they came upon an Inquisition scout. She warned them about attackers in the area, but she didn't think they were bandits. "They're either stupid, or they're more than just bandits. And they're too well armed for stupid," she'd said.

"Greeeeat.. more "bandits," Mithra drawled with heavy sarcasm.

Josmael bounced and whined before the ranger as they passed through the archway.

Mithra laughed openly at his enthusiasm. "Alright...I'll cover you. But wait until I'm ready. And please try not to scare our friends with your game. No teeth unless you have to. Alright?"

Josmael gave her a broad, wolfy smile, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth.

"Game?" Cassandra asked warily.

Mithra looked to the seeker. "Bandits are Josmael's favorite...toy. He loves terrifying them while I pick them off with a bow."

Cassandra gave her a doubtful look.

The ranger readied her bow with three arrows. "We'll keep it tame for you, Seeker," she teased and headed for a small boulder to hide behind.

The elf settled in, then peered over the massive rock, choosing her targets carefully. Josmael was lying on the ground next to her, eager to begin. The party, on the other hand, stayed behind a cluster of trees, ready in case things went wrong for the pair.

Mithra sat with her back against the stone and positioned her arrows to be aimed at her chosen victims. When she was set, she nodded to Josmael, who tore out of cover and howled as he flew right through the middle of the bandits.

They screamed and stumbled away, cursing the size of the beast.

The ranger turned and readied herself behind the boulder, bow turned sideways so the great rock wouldn't spoil her shot. She made her final adjustments to her aim and loosed her arrows all at once. They bit deep into the bandits, instantly killing the three she had chosen.

Josmael made his return charge and pounced on one of the bandits, knocking him to the ground. The bandit started shrieking as the wolf ripped at his trousers, pulling his pants down.

Mithra ducked her head with a quick giggle as the bandit's bare ass turned skyward, then took aim at two more who were approaching the wolf to aid their unfortunate and utterly embarrassed comrade.

Her targets went down in an instant, and she whistled at the overgrown pup to "drop it." The wolf complied, and the bandit began to scramble away, tugging his trousers up from his ankles as he moved.

Sera laughed out loud at the whole scene, apparently approving of the wolf's tricks. "Ahhhhh...good one...heh!"

The ranger let the poor fool get to his feet before putting one through his chest, granting him a modicum of dignity before his end.

Josmael returned to Mithra quickly, delighted to have been allowed to play. He attempted to lick her face in thanks, but she covered her head with crossed arms and laughed. "Noooo! Your breath smells of bandit ass!"

Varric and Sera laughed heartily as the wolf continued trying to force his nose between her arms for a kiss. Even Cassandra and Blackwall smiled at the scene.

Solas didn't seem to find it very amusing. "We're nearly there," the mage remarked as he pressed forward.

* * *

They came upon a female Dalish mage battling demons in front of a ruin.

Mithra ordered Josmael to hide so he wouldn't scare her off then proceeded to pump the last two demons full of arrows, firing two into each.

The ranger scowled when she recognized who she had just aided. "Ah...shit."

"Friend of yours, Starshine?" Varric teased.

"Hardly. It's been years since I saw her last, but I know _of_ the bitch."

The mage greeted them as they neared, "Andaran atish'an, stranger! My name is Mhiris, First of Clan Virnehn."

Mithra crossed her arms and crooked her hip. "Your clan calls Northern Orlais home, why are you east of the Frostbacks, Mhiris? And how fares your asshole Keeper? Thelhen, was it?"

Mhiris was taken aback. "Have we met, stranger?"

The ranger smirked at her awkward gaze while making a subtle hand gesture to signal Josmael.

The mage looked at her hard, trying to recognize Mithra; it was for naught.

Mithra's tone went dark, "You could say that. Though you and yours never bothered to actually speak with me. I do recall you spitting the phrase "Len'alas lath'din" before your clan attempted to kill me, however."

The party paled at the revelation. They could feel the murder in Mithra's tone, and it unsettled most of them deeply.

Josmael snuck up behind the mage and let a vicious growl rumble in his throat. His eyes narrowed with murderous rage at the sight of her.

Mhiris nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound and went pale, turning to find the oversized, slate wolf staring her down. She remembered him and finally realized who she was speaking to. "You.."

"Yes, felasil...Fen'en ver na, Mhiris," Mithra said with a silky tone and a sneer.

Josmael lept at the signal and took the mage to the ground, burying his fangs deep in her throat. She appeared to gasp for air for a moment, and the wolf gave her a quick jerk, breaking her neck. She went still in his grip at last.

Mithra turned away, heading for the ruins. "Before anyone asks, her clan nearly took my life that day. They owed us blood. Now, let's get this done and get back to Haven. The council needs to know what we discovered in Redcliffe."

"Are we done here, then?" Mithra asked the party as they exited the small ruin. An arrow whizzed past her face, and she rolled her eyes. "Really? I thought that was all of them."

The party turned to find six more bandits in the area, some taking aim at the party again.

"Josmael - Sulahn!"

The wolf let a murderous howl fly as the bandits prepared to loose their arrows, causing them to jump and miss their targets horribly.

Sera, Varric, Solas, and Mithra returned fire, taking them down in a breath.

"Assholes." The ranger sneered.

"There's bound to be more further in. Let's go take care of them," Blackwall muttered as he took point.

* * *

"Let's camp here. We can head back to Haven at first light," Mithra suggested.

"What's with you and getting up early?! Let's sleep in!" Sera cheered.

"There's an emergency situation to handle, Sera. We need a plan to get the Mages away from those Magisters as soon as possible," Cassandra scolded.

The city elf's sarcastically replied, "Plan..right. Those work well."

Everyone looked at her funny.

Sera looked annoyed and held her hands up as if holding a painting. "Look, here's how it is. You big hats go 'round, planning every little thing: Conclave... Inquisition... Closing the Fade hole...Plans go to shit! They don't work."

Mithra smiled. "I think I get what you're saying."

Blackwall looked incredulous as he turned to her. "You understood a word of that?!"

"Somewhat. The Conclave was supposed to end the war. It blew up, the Breach happened, now it's worse. The Inquisition is supposed to "restore order." All we've managed to do so far is piss off the Chantry. They're making things worse too, fools that they are. And my first attempt to close the Breach went...poorly. Sera's saying that plans go awry, and they do. My best-laid plans have had to be adjusted on the fly often."

Heads bobbed as they saw the point.

"However... a basic plan _is_ a good idea. Plans can always change, sure. It's when people cling desperately to their original plan that they don't survive it," Mithra finished.

"Knew you'd get it." Sera smiled. "Anyway. Where's food? I'm starving!"

"Who's cooking tonight?" Mithra asked the group.

All heads turned to the wild elf with smiles.

Mithra groaned while looking to the sky. "Alriiight..." She headed through the tunnel at the back of the camp to find supper with Josmael on her heels.

* * *

She emerged through the other side after night had settled in, peering in the dark to spot some prey. "You see anything, Isa'ma'sal?"

He whined, suddenly seeming nervous.

"What's wrong? We're just out to get something to eat," she chided while pressing forward.

Much further in, she could smell something burning. Her brow furrowed as she tried to spot a campfire. She made out a cliff ahead and decided it would be a good vantage point to spot any other bandits that might be in the area.

She approached cautiously and began to climb. Her toes searched for footholds thoroughly before hoisting herself higher and higher. Once she made it to the top, Mithra crouched; bow ready in case she spotted the camp she was sure she'd find.

"Nothing..."

Josmael was below, yipping quietly at her with a warning.

"What's wrong with you? There's noth-" A blast of warm air wrapped around her, and she gasped.

She turned to find a huge, green eye looking at her, only inches away.

Mithra let out a nervous laugh, and the beast lifted its head in a mighty, shrill roar. Fire lit the sky above her as it bellowed, illuminating its massive orange head and the ridge of its back. Then Mithra knew without a doubt.

"DRAGON!" She yelled and began hopping frantically down the rocky cliff in the dark.

* * *

Back at camp, everyone huddled around the fire, laughing at some of Varric's stories.

Cassandra's face was alight with amusement as he told them of some trouble he and Hawke had gotten into years before.

The horses and harts seemed agitated just after he'd delivered the punchline of a terrible joke.

"Everyone's a critic." Varric smiled when he noticed them dancing back and forth in their pen.

"DRAGON! RUUUUNN!" the ranger roared as she tore out of the tunnel right behind her wolf.

The dragon landed on top of the cliff overlooking the camp and blew fire into the night sky while letting another terrible cry echo from its throat.

Everyone jumped to their feet and ran for their horses. They cussed as they ran, cursing Mithra for leading it to them.

"Right! I'll just let it eat me next time! Sound good to you?!" she roared at the cussing party.

Varric lost his footing when he tried to sprint and rolled onto his barrel chest, nearly knocking his face on a large stone.

The ranger plucked him to his feet as she came to him. "Heavier than you look, Durgen'len!" she poked as they started running together.

"This is no time for jokes, Starshine! Fucking High Dragons! Can't you charm it, or whatever?!"

"NO!" she barked as if it should be obvious.

The dragon prepared for take-off, massive wings eclipsing the three-quarter moon and blocking the stars from view. It began circling the area, taking flight on the chilly night air, as the team reached their mounts.

"I thought you were the Queen of Beasts!" Varric yelled in annoyance over the creature's screeches as he climbed aboard his pony.

Mithra mounted Danyla a second later, as everyone else began to race ahead. "I don't know dragons! And they're too much beast!" she growled hotly.

They all tore through the area, dodging small trees, leaping over large stones, and small drops. They raced frantically for the Crossroads, and eventually, hopefully, out of the Hinterlands.

The dragon turned back toward its lair as the party reached the archway leading to the main road, but the group kept going. They weren't about to wait to see if the creature decided it was hungry.


	19. Considerations

As the sun's light began to turn the forest's fog gold, and beams of light glittered on the morning dew, the party rested around a small fire.

Varric's brow furrowed. "Now, please explain to me _why_ you can't use your weird...elfy...charming powers on dragons?"

Mithra gave him an annoyed sigh. "Because I don't _know_ dragons. And it's not an "elfy" thing. It's a r_anger_ thing. There have been human rangers too, ya know."

Varric waited for her to continue with a sour look.

She groaned and explained, "I have to understand _the creature to charm it_. Not just its grunts, whines, and calls, but it's body language too. As I begin to understand it, I can add its language to my whistle and use it when that kind of beast is in range."

Intrigued, Solas asked, "You add it to the whistle?"

"Yes. Remember that I said I can charge or enchant ironbark? I charge the whistle with the language. I enchant it with my understanding and power bit by bit. It makes it...easier on me."

"Is it hard on you?" Cassandra asked with a hint of worry.

"It can be, yes. If a creature is enraged, it takes a fair amount of power for me to charm it; less so if I'm very familiar with that particular animal. If I don't know it, it can cause me to lose consciousness. For how long depends on how pissed off it is, plus its size, strength, and mental fortitude," Mithra explained. "For example, when I was thirteen, a mildly annoyed bear caused me to pass out for two days, and I understood them a little bit by then. To gain understanding, I have to study them; watch them interact with other creatures in their natural setting. My sister wouldn't let me hang around bears long enough to learn very much at a time. She was terrified for me and would chew my ass if she caught me watching animals she deemed too dangerous." The ranger shook her head and smiled at the memory of various scolding sessions.

"So, that's why you didn't just charm the druffalo that attacked your wolf," Solas concluded.

Mithra nodded and explained further, "The more I put my power and understanding into the whistle, the stronger _it_ becomes, and it doesn't have to pull so much from me. But, they're a recent addition to my arsenal." She scowled at the wolf. "I didn't start studying them until _after_ Josmael thought it'd be fun to get squished by one."

Josmael avoided eye contact and scurried away. He was not getting into that discussion again.

"So, you're saying that your..."power" is in the whistle?" Varric asked, mentally taking notes for a book, undoubtedly.

"Yes and no. It holds a surplus supply of my power, built up over time, but it isn't the source. I am. Honestly, I don't even need it at close range, only over a distance." She held the white cylinder up for the dwarf to see. "But I've built this one up over the last...five years..? Give or take.."

The ranger glanced sideways at Sera while reaching for her water skin. "In case anyone here is getting any ideas, it wouldn't work for you if you decided to "borrow it" for a bit. I still have to give it a spark to activate it."

The city elf looked falsely hurt. "Wha...me?"

Mithra grinned at her with a playful wink. "But..if you want to pull some pranks sometime, I'm always game."

* * *

The party entered Haven and rode toward the stables to dismount and let the animals rest properly after their long journey.

Cullen noticed their arrival almost immediately and turned to face the party, watching the ranger specifically as they neared. He sighed with a small grin on his lips. She was as lovely as ever. He was glad to see her in one piece.

Josmael hurried ahead and greeted the commander gingerly, bumping his hand with his nose.

Cullen scratched behind his ears and smiled at him. "Hey, boy. Good to see you too."

The commander looked up at Mithra when she drew close enough for polite conversation. "How was your trip?"

"My last few days have been interesting, to say the least." She dismounted, landing a couple of feet from the commander. "We ran into two of those weird rifts, talked to the creepiest guy in the world, and ran from a pissed off High Dragon. How have things been here?"

"A High Dragon?!" Cullen looked her up and down quickly. "You're uninjured?"

The ranger laughed through a sigh as she began removing Danyla's packs and riding gear. "Yeah, we made it out okay. Scared the piss out of all of us, though. I went hunting after dark and wandered straight into its lair. I climbed a cliff because I thought I smelled a _campfire_ and wanted to get a good vantage point to scout out the area. The smell turned out to be dragon-breath. It was right next to me on the cliff. I had no idea until the damn thing _breathed_ on me." She shook her head wearily and rubbed her forehead. "I have the _worst_ luck, I swear.."

Cullen smiled. "Or the best. You got out alive and unharmed."

Mithra lifted her left hand and flexed it at him. "Accumulated evidence says "worst" hands down...no pun intended." She grinned at her accidental joke.

He looked a little sad. "I'm sorry. For what it's worth, you've been nothing but good luck for us."

"At least I'm useful to someone." She sighed as she freed the last strap and pulled the gear from the golden hart. She closed her eyes and groaned while rubbing her forehead.

The commander gave her a suspicious look. "Are you...feeling alright?"

She turned to Cullen, looking bone tired. "Just exhausted. We rode through the night. I'm going to get some sleep. See you later, Commander."

"What about the Mages? Did you meet with them?" he asked as she turned to go.

Mithra turned back to him. "That was when I spoke with the creepiest guy in the world. The situation is...a cluster fuck. We can discuss it later, in the War Room." She left for her cabin then, eager to close her eyes for a while.

* * *

Mithra dropped the harnesses and passed out as soon as she flopped face-first onto her bed of furs.

Josmael circled her on the pile and lay down. He groaned at her to cuddle up, but she was already out cold.

He repositioned himself and lay his head across her back instead, sighing and licking his chops as he settled down to sleep.

She'd been running herself ragged. They used to play and wander, taking afternoon naps in the shade. Now they went on missions and took care of business for these people. He missed the good old days.

The wolf twitched his nose and yawned then closed his eyes.

* * *

Three hours later, everyone gathered in the war room.

Mithra leaned against the wall quietly, still looking sleepy.

Cassandra announced, "The Mages are in the hands of a Magister. They claimed he appeared two days after the Conclave and offered them citizenship in Tevinter."

"After ten years of slavery," Varric grumbled.

Sera scowled. "He's a pisshead. Creepy one, too."

Solas added, "And it would appear the strange rifts alter time. They affected the area all around them. Some sections sped things up while others slowed them down. I've never heard of nor seen anything like it. We met Alexius' former apprentice, who claimed that the two of them developed this magic. He says he wishes to help put a stop to his plans."

Cullen looked at everyone like they had lost their minds. "They're staying in Redcliffe Castle? That's one of the most defensible fortresses in Ferelden! We could never take it from them by force!"

Agast, Josephine declared, "Our army's presence would begin another war! We couldn't do that!"

Leliana chimed in, "We may not have to. I know of a secret passage that leads to the dungeons of the castle. Ashara and I used it to liberate Redcliffe from the undead hoard during the Blight. My agents could sneak in and take it right from under their noses. However, we would need a distraction."

"The Magister said he would send for us again, to arrange a meeting to discuss the use of the Mages. We can continue this once he sends word," Cassandra informed.

Leliana smiled wickedly. "That would be a perfect distraction. Give him his meeting while my people slip in."

"Perhaps. Let's think about our options and continue this another time," Cullen finished.

They began to depart, and Mithra looked confused. "No questions today, Spymaster?"

Leliana's hands slid behind her back as she smiled. "We've decided to let you have your privacy. You've done good work for us, so we have no reason to distrust you any longer. You'll share what you wish in your own time, on friendly terms.

Mithra's face softened. "Thank you."

* * *

They would send her willingly into Tevinter Magister's clutches?!

Cullen couldn't help but think about Mithra being captured and sold into slavery in that vile country. Locked in a cage, covered in whip marks and blood, growing pale and even thinner than she already was. He shivered as he walked through the Chantry.

He smiled. Mithra would fight, not let them make her a slave. His eyes reflected horror when he realized they'd use her in a blood ritual the first chance they got if she didn't submit. They'd kill her... He hunched and rubbed his forehead. They couldn't send her to Redcliffe. The Mages had made their bed. Let them lie in it.

"Something troubling you, Commander?" Mithra asked when she'd caught up to him.

He turned to her, his expression still locked in worry. "I'm just...concerned for your safety. If you go in there..." He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm afraid you'd never come back to m...err..us! Do you know what they do to elves in Tevinter?"

She nodded solemnly. "I do. I've busted a few slaver caravans in my day. Poor things...Heard some of the most fucked up stories about how they wound up there from those I freed."

Cullen looked amazed. "You've rescued people from those monsters?!"

She laughed. "With a fair amount of help, yes. Mostly while I was in the Free Marches, Antiva, and Rivain. Ghi'sulelan is actually connected to that time in my life, along with one of my other names. Of course, people have skewed a few things in their tellings. The point is, I've done many things with my life, Commander. Some of them not so-" She stopped as her eyes fell to her bare toes in shame.

"I can imagine. I..went through a similar...experience as you did. A long time ago. It changed me for a time."

Mithra's eyes went wide as she looked up at Cullen. Maybe he- No, there's no way he could understand.

Cullen reached out and took her hand in both of his.

She immediately jumped and took a step away while looking at him with wide eyes.

He looked pained. "Forgive me.. I wasn't thinking."

"No..it's..it's alright. Ir abelas..I'm just- it was a surprise." She blew out a nervous breath while shaking her hands out at her sides. It was just Cullen... Things were okay.

The commander's gentle plea broke the silence growing between them, "Please reconsider. I'd never forgive myself if we sent you to Redcliffe. If something happened-" He cleared his throat and offered, "If it would help, I'll go to Therinfall with you. I can leave the troops in Blackwall's care while I'm away. He was a soldier before he became a Warden, so he knows military strategy and training. Besides, he's a Warden, I can trust him."

She looked up at him after a moment, but couldn't meet his eyes. Her vision grew misty as she whispered, "Neither situation is ideal, so... I'll think about it."

Cullen smiled, and his shoulders fell in relief. "Thank you.." She would consider it. That's all he asked.

She sniffed and shook her hands nervously at her sides again, regaining some composure. "I have a mercenary company to meet with on the Storm Coast. I'll think about it while we're away."

* * *

Cassandra, Varric, and Solas strolled away from the Chantry together, ahead of everyone else.

Varric grinned. "Do you think Curly's got the nerve to come out and tell her?"

"What are you talking about, Varric?" Cassandra asked hotly.

"You know... The puppy eyes... How he always greets her when we return... The shade of red he turns when she catches him looking at her..."

The seeker grunted with disgust. "It is not my place to ask about such things, Varric. Nor is it yours."

The dwarf's grin grew. "What about you, Chuckles? I know you have a soft spot for her. How do you like having some competition?"

"There is no competition, Master Tethras." The apostate remarked coolly.

"Oh-ho! Do I detect some vanity? She's really warmed up to him, and Curly's a good looking guy. I've seen women give him some shameless looks in Kirkwall." Varric laughed. The shade of red Curly turned outside of The Blooming Rose. Good times.

"As I said, there is no competition. He was a templar, she will never trust him," Solas explained indifferently.

"Are you sure about that, Chuckles?"

Solas grew slightly irritated. "You'd be a fool to think we've heard all there is regarding her hatred of Templars. Much has happened to her. We've heard only one evening of it." With that, the apostate turned up the stairs abruptly and headed toward his quarters.

* * *

The party set off the next morning for the Storm Coast, hoping to catch the mercenary company in action. Mithra had slept the rest of the day before, trying to combat the exhaustion that loomed over her. She had succeeded to some degree, but she felt weary thinking about what still had to be done before she could return to her own life.

It was slavery or death...but neither was guaranteed. If she went with the Templars... Oh shit. But, if she walked into Redcliffe Castle-

"Thoughts?" Solas asked when he noticed her chewing her lovely rose lips.

She sighed. "Just...weighing options."

He looked a little relieved. "Options? Are you changing your mind about leaving?"

She gave him a doubtful look. "Of course not. I'm thinking about whether to collect the Mages or Templars for help with the Breach."

Solas looked absolutely thunderstruck. She was considering them? Why?

Mithra noticed his surprise and explained, "If we go to Redcliffe, you and I both could be captured by slavers or killed. I wouldn't doubt if Alexius would set such a trap. I don't want to endanger you like that." She looked sad then. "But if I decide to get the Templars...well-"

"I see...you surprise me, Lethal'lan. I never imagined you would ever consider the Templars as an option, but I understand why. It's a difficult decision, and I'm with you no matter which you choose," the apostate offered.

"Ma serranas, Fenlin. You have been a good friend through all of this. I'm grateful to have you with me."

She smiled at him sweetly, and he returned with a slightly uneasy grin of his own.


	20. The Storm Coast

They finally reached the coast four days later, and Scout Harding filled them in on the news of the region.

Upon hearing about a squad of missing Inquisition soldiers, Mithra pledged, "I'll look into it for you."

"Thank you, Your Worship. That's a relief."

The ranger's brow furrowed. "Just call me Mithra, please."

"I... don't think that would be appropriate, Your Worship," Harding responded nervously.

Mithra sighed and turned to go. "Let's move. I'm not much for cold rain."

They found their way downhill and heard the distinct sounds of fighting at the seaside. The team rushed forward and arrived to find the Bull's Chargers engaging Tevinters in white uniforms; those the mercenary from Haven mentioned, no doubt.

"Josmael, stay back for this one. They don't know you from a common wolf," the ranger ordered.

He groaned his protest and lay down.

"Aww.. don't worry, I'll stay here with you. You can play with one if they charge at me, okay?" she teased as she took out her new sylvanwood bow.

He huffed and looked away, pouting further. _"They never reach you in time for me to have any fun."_

Mithra laughed as she loosed arrows.

When all targets lay dead, a huge horned man ordered his men to stand down and look to the wounded.

The ranger approached him with Josmael at her side, glad to see a good old fashioned merc band again.

He turned to see her approach and greeted her, "Hey! Inquisition, right? Iron Bull, commander of the Bull's Chargers. Glad you could make it, have a seat. Drinks are on the way." He gestured to Josmael. "Nice wolf! Don't think I've ever seen one that big before."

Mithra smirked. "He's _very_ well fed..and I could use a good drink right about now, thank you."

The young mercenary she'd spoken to in Haven approached, and Bull introduced, "I assume you remember my lieutenant, Cremisius Aclassi?"

"I do." Mithra grinned at the young merc and gave him a polite nod as she sat on a small fallen tree. Josmael lay down next to her on the ground.

"Good to see you again," he said while handing her a drink and eyeing the wolf nervously.

She winked playfully with a grin. "Don't worry. He won't take your arm without my word."

Krem nodded and returned a grin of his own.

"How did we do, Krem?" Bull asked.

"Five or six wounded, Chief. No dead."

"That's what I like to hear. Have the throat cutters double-check. I don't want any of those Tevinter _bastards_ getting away. No offense, Krem." Bull chuckled.

"None taken." The young mercenary turned to carry out the order. "At least a bastard knows who his mother was. Puts him one up on you Qunari, right?"

Oh, these people were fun. Mithra already knew she'd like them. With a shameless grin, she began, "To business, then. How much and what are you offering, exactly?"

"Oh, we're expensive, but we're worth it. We'd set up the payments with your Ambassador...Josephine. The Chargers would do jobs for you, and I'm offering myself as a front line bodyguard. I'll take on anything..demons...dragons.." When Bull grunted lustily, Mithra's grin soured with unease.

Mithra realized he knew Josie's name. "You've done some research, I see. Who are you, exactly?"

"Oh, you're sharp. I like that! Have you ever heard of the Ben Hassrath?"

"I have. Qunari organization: city watch, problem solvers, and spies, right?"

"Yeah...that's us."

"So, you're Qunari. I was curious about that. I've had a few Vashoth friends but haven't met a lot of actual Qunari."

Bull growled, "You've known Tal-Vashoth?"

"No, just _Vashoth_: those born and raised out here that have never known the Qun. They're no different than any other person on this side of Thedas..well, except for their size and horns. Nice rack, by the way." Mithra smirked.

Bull laughed heartily. "Thanks! Yours isn't too shabby either," he said with a wink, though it could have been a blink. Hard to tell with only one eye.

Suspiciously, Mithra asked, "So..why do the Ben Hassrath have an interest in the Inquisition? I imagine you're here on orders."

"The Ben Hassrath are concerned about the Breach. They sent me over to find out if it can be dealt with without having to launch an invasion. You let me send word back home; it'll put minds at ease..which is good for everyone. In exchange, I'll share Ben Hassrath reports with your spymaster..the redhead...Mmmmmmm..red heads," he hummed.

The ranger pursed her lips for a moment. "Alright..but you run your reports past Leliana before sending them. You send nothing without her approval. If you're trying to pull the wool over our eyes, I will send every creature I can summon up your ass. Got me?" Mithra threatened.

Bull nodded. "Fair enough, Boss."

* * *

With the mercs in hand, the team set off to find what had become of the squadron. The Chargers, meanwhile, were headed to Haven to settle in and arrange their business with Josephine.

The sharp talons of two great horned owls wrapped tenderly around the leather of Mithra's armor when she offered her arm. "Have you seen any Inquisition soldiers, falon'en?" she asked while offering them bits of raw meat.

They took it graciously and swallowed before answering in the negative.

"Would you have a search, please? We'll continue to look down here in a moment. Find me if you see anything."

With their orders, the birds took off in different directions to search on her behalf.

Bull looked floored. "That is _sweet! Y_ou can ask them to do anything?"

Mithra smirked while she took a seat near the fire. "Pretty much. They can scout, attack, or simply fuck with people that annoy me."

He laughed. "Loud and clear, Boss."

"Please don't ask them to attack again. The carnage last time," Cassandra implored.

"Carnage!? What's wrong with a little blood, Seeker? You look like you've severed some heads in your day," Bull teased.

Cassandra wrinkled her nose. "Yes, but I do not mutilate my enemies."

Mithra sighed and leaned back on her elbows. "Don't worry, Seeker. I'll restrict my beasts to scouting and pranks unless there's an emergency.. Or I'll warn you to close your sweet virgin eyes."

The seeker scowled at the elf's taunting.

An Inquisition helmet fell from the sky, landing inches away from Mithra's legs.

The ranger stood and offered her arm, which the owl perched on gratefully. "Where?" she asked while rewarding her with another bit of meat.

The bird seemed to answer and took to a nearby tree..

"She says the soldiers are already dead, but the bandits responsible are still there. We have a guide, let's go."

* * *

They reached the farmhouse on the hill and all charged in. Josmael flew in ahead to panic the bandits with the three warriors on his tail. Sera, Varric, and Solas stayed back with ranged attacks, and Mithra swept in with daggers in hand, wanting to get a little personal with the pricks. While she severed armor and danced around, Josmael took on the two Mabari close to her.

When all bandits lay dead, they inspected the house the owl perched upon. They found the soldiers within along with a marked map, daring them to come for the leader.

The ranger grinned. "It seems we can challenge their leader for control of the group. The Inquisition could always use more blades, right?"

"We can set them on a better path." Blackwall smiled.

Cassandra cut in, explaining that these "Blades of Hessarion" were besmirching the name of the man they named themselves after.

Mithra rolled her eyes. Great...they were **zealous** bandits. She never thought I'd see the day.

* * *

They approached the bandit's main camp with the token to declare a challenge about Mithra's neck.

A giant of a man, likely of Avaar blood, stood near the back, flanked by two Mabari.

"Cassandra...virgin eyes, Love," the ranger teased with a wicked grin.

The seeker got the hint and braced herself for the impending slaughter.

"So! You would challenge the Blades of Hessarion?" the prick spat at the sight of the tiny elf woman.

Mithra stabbed a finger at him. "You spilled Inquisition blood. I'm here to claim what you owe, asshole."

As the guy issued his war cry, Mithra claimed his two Mabari. The waves of power flowed from her as she made a simple hand gesture, bringing the war hounds into her service.

The dogs lept on the bandit leader and took him to the ground. They ripped him to shreds as he screamed, cursing them for betraying him. After a moment of torture, the ranger put an arrow through his eye.

Bull's jaw had dropped, and he might have drooled a little. "Oh, that is hoooott!" he howled lustily as the bandit leader's form went still at last.

"Glad _someone_ approves of me," Mithra muttered and gave the Qunari a soft grin.

* * *

With the former bandits now working for "The Herald," specifically, they set off.

The ranger was eager to get away from the constant drizzle of the coast. However, Mithra's impending decision hit her again like a ton of bricks.

Her companions expressed their thoughts on the matter when she asked for them.

Cassandra suggested getting the Mages away from that Magister.

Solas suggested liberating the Mages or leashing the Templars. Mithra couldn't help but agree with him.

Blackwall didn't care to see either faction conscripted. He was all for freedom on either side. Varric apprised that the Mages would be loyal friends - but friends who happened to make poor decisions.

So, Mithra concluded that she would definitely either free the Mages as a big fat "fuck you" to the Templars and the Chantry, or conscript the Templars to keep them from freely being murderous assholes. She kept that much of her decision to herself, however.


	21. Choosing Therinfal

Mithra was trying to delay the decision she would have to make upon her return by traveling slowly and stopping to rest often. Her stomach was in knots the whole way. She wasn't certain she'd survive either choice, but the finality of death seemed better than the uncertainty of slavery. If she did manage to get out alive and free, she would be able to enjoy her freedom and privacy once again. The uncertainty of her fate had her on edge in either case.

She engaged in fights eagerly, throwing herself into the fray with reckless abandon. She would howl curses in Elvish as she slashed and stabbed, venting her rage and frustration. If Templars were on the field, she always went for them first. Mithra dispatched them quickly with no small amount of bloodlust contorting her delicate features. She was vicious in battle, and Bull enjoyed watching her rip her enemies asunder, painted in blood and battle sweat after each fight.

The Qunari discreetly asked Solas what her deal was with Templars the third day into the journey. Blackwall nudged into the conversation once he figured out the topic, he hadn't yet heard either. Both admired the lithe elf woman's strength and resolve once they learned of that terrible night. The psychological damage done by the Templars was obviously deeply rooted in her, it flared to life whenever she saw a group of them. That she was even considering the idea of fetching them showed the two just how strong she was.

Bull had endured similar horrors back in Saheron and knew how such things took its toll on the mind. He could only imagine how much her impending decision weighed on her. The Vints were the worst people in the world to him and didn't care to see her fall into their hands. He'd love to see them try to take this little beast on, however.

* * *

They arrived in Haven after a long week of lumbering travel, and Mithra had finally made her decision.

Cullen greeted them upon their return, a shy smile gracing his lips as he watched the ranger approach, as always. "How was your trip, Herald?" he asked cheerfully.

Her face grew stormy as soon as that ridiculous moniker touched her ears, and she growled, "Do not call me that, Templar."

The commander looked like she'd kicked him in the face again, but tried to ignore it. "Not a good one, I take it?"

She sighed heavily. "Very stressful. There was a lot to think about along the way. We made a new friend, however, and I'm glad to have him with us. He's...fun. A breath of fresh air," she said curtly.

Cullen shifted his weight to one leg uncomfortably. "Have you..decided?"

"Yes, but you won't like it as much as you think you will. I won't endanger Solas or myself with the possibility of slavery, so we're...going to get the Templars," she admitted shamefully. As his face rose in joy, her voice burned with warning, "This will not be easy for me, Templar. Things may very well go...poorly. If you insist on coming with us, don't engage in a fight. I'd rather not kill you. You've been...remarkably kind. But if you draw steel, I will see you as one of them, and I will kill you...without even realizing it."

His blood turned to ice. Mithra's steady gaze was full of fire, and he knew without a doubt that she was dead serious. It was like a punch in the gut. He'd only seen her like this once before: when she first woke up in Haven and had set him as a target.  
He blew out a nervous breath. "Perhaps it's best if I..remain in Haven then."

She softened exponentially, feeling shamed about threatening the man. He had been so sweet to her throughout her stay, he didn't deserve her ire. She knew, besides, Cullen was crazy about her, it was so obvious to everyone. She was flattered, a man as handsome as he was. But he was a Templar, it could never be.

She broke the growing silence with a whisper, "I think that would be best, yes. For your own safety."

Cullen became uncomfortable with her sudden mood shift and rubbed the back of his neck. "So..uuh...what's the real story behind Gah...su-Ahh!" Frustrated with his fumbled pronunciation, he dropped his hand to the pommel of his sword. "I mean your Northern Free Marches name?"

She laughed out loud and doubled over briefly.

The commander turned bright red in embarrassment and looked to the sky while she laughed at him.

"You poor thing..." She looked down and rubbed her forehead. "Ghi-sul-el-ahn," she offered slowly as she looked up at him at last. "That's something I'd rather share with everyone in the tavern. I could really use a drink."

Cullen smiled. He did enjoy grabbing a pint and listening to her spin her happier tales. She always looked so lively as she told them.  
"Sounds great, but we need to go over the plans in the war room before you go."

"Alright..so...pint, story, war room, sleep. We leave tomorrow," Mithra listed off cheerfully.

He grinned. "Sounds like a plan to me."

* * *

"The story of Ghi'sulelan.."

Sera blew a raspberry at the ultra-elfy name.

"Oh, I think you'll like this one, Sera. It involves killing some of the biggest pissheads in Thedas," the ranger offered with a playful wink.

The city elf pursed her lips. "Alright..but try not to make it all elfy.."

"Alright..so what have you heard about that particular name, Fenlin?" Mithra asked while smiling at the apostate.

"The Dalish consider her a hero. It is said she strikes at humans from stealth and brings the fury of the forests upon them. Beasts swarm the area, and she leaves only one alive so they may warn others to leave the clans in the area alone."

Mithra had started laughing the moment he said 'hero.' "That's adorable." She chuckled and took a deep drink.

"I've heard that tale. So..what's the real story?" Blackwall asked, awed to be drinking with a folk hero.

Mithra shrugged. "The truth is that I just happened to be in the area while hunting. It wasn't my intention to protect Dalish clans at all. I'd often run into slavers, bandits, or Templars while wandering..." She shrugged again. "..and I'd kill them," she said rather cheerfully and far too vaguely for her audience.

"You're terrible at this, you know that? Details, Starshine!" Varric prodded impatiently.

A grin twisted itself wide across her face, curving her scar into a crescent moon. "Fine, Durgen'len, I'll give details, since you want them so badly."

Mithra thought for a second and held her drink near her face. "I had claimed an area of a forest up there, a plain lay just beyond the treeline. A caravan of slavers rolled through with some "live goods." As I'm sure you know, slavers are sly bastards; I had to be smart so I wouldn't end up in the cage with the others. So I started with some native birds: falcons, eagles, that sort of thing. I think there may have been about fifty of them, circling their caravan. Made a lot of them nervous to see so many birds gathered."

She sipped at her ale while remembering the people in the cage, mostly elves, but some humans too. All filthy and bleeding from whip marks. Children cried from hunger and fear while worried mothers held their young, trying desperately to comfort them.

She shook the scene away and looked sad for a second. "Anyway.. I used the birds to distract and confuse while the "army" gathered. Bears, wolves, even fennecs; their little teeth are sharper than you know. As the birds swooped and scattered the bastards, I ordered the rest to charge from the treeline. It was...bloody." She grinned then. "Everything Cassandra's virgin eyes can't stand to witness."

The seeker was not amused.

"As for the "stealth attacks," I hung in the trees, firing arrows into skulls to put them out of their misery. And I left none alive if I could help it." She took another drink.

With a smirk, Solas asked, "So how did the Dalish come to regard you as a hero if you didn't actually protect their clans?"

Mithra leaned back in her chair and hung her arm over the backrest. "Ah, well, most of those I rescued from slavers were elves, sold into slavery by noble "employers" they had irritated. One of the women from that particular bust was a kitchen servant. She was sold into slavery for dropping a spoon at a party." She leaned forward and slammed her cup on the tabletop. "Can you believe that?!"

Sera scowled. "I can! Frigging user...arseholes.."

"In any case, I'd set them free, and they would express interest in joining the Dalish rather than return to the cities, fearing they would be sold again. So, I'd get some minor beasts to guide them to a nearby clan: owls, fennecs, hares. Anyway, the creatures ensured that the Dalish would take them in, thinking that the Creators themselves had brought them there. The intended slaves told the clans about the rescue, the clans invented the name and threatened humans with it, and there we go. Folktale is born," she cheered with a grin before finishing off her tankard.

"You had said there was another name tied into your slaver busting days," Cullen poked curiously.

Mithra sighed playfully and rolled her eyes. "Alright, Commander. The story is mostly the same, but in Antiva and Rivain, I was given the name "Elgadhal." It translates to "Spirit Tree." I used different tactics for those years, though. There were more slavers in those areas. I had to be even trickier than they were."

Solas' eyes went wide upon hearing the name.

"You've never been caught?" Blackwall asked.

"That is a tale for another time, my Warden friend!" she announced cheerfully while slamming the tankard down authoritatively. "Now! We have a meeting to attend. Gotta plan for fetching those.." Her nose twisted up with disgust, "..Templars," and she headed out of the tavern.

The others scattered a moment later, most headed toward the Chantry for the council meeting. Only Cullen and Solas lingered at the table.

The look Solas gave the commander was bone-chilling. "How did she come to choose them? I don't suppose you had anything to do with that?"

Cullen gave him a hard look. "I merely expressed my concerns for her safety. The final decision was hers."

"You are a fool to think she is safer in Therinfal. You have no idea what the sight of Templars does to her in the field. She isn't as gentle as you think she is. Nor is she weak."

"Of course she isn't weak, Apostate! Anyone can see that!"

"Have you forgotten already? The look she gave you when she woke? She gets that same look in her eye each time we encounter Templars out in the world. None can keep up with her once she starts her rampage."

Cullen went quiet, but his gaze continued to bore into the elvhen mage with growing irritation.

"She isn't choosing the Templars over the Mages. She's choosing death over the possibility of slavery. She is a creature of the wilds. She yearns for freedom above all else. If she goes to Therinfal, she will die. She will kill as many as she can before she falls. The whole of what remains of your Order is stationed there, yes? They could kill her, and you know as well as I that they will. Now, please excuse me." Solas pushed himself from the table abruptly and left quickly.

The commander kicked back the rest of his ale and fondled the tankard absently, his anger fading into worry. He couldn't imagine what a beast she was in the field. He had seen her spar with Cassandra, but he had no idea that she was merely toying with the seeker in that bout.

He rubbed his face with both hands and sighed into them as he brought them to rest over his mouth and chin. Solas spent more time with her than anyone. He fought beside her...knew her. Had Cullen unwittingly doomed her? Maker, he hoped not. Please...no.

He shook his fears away and stood to leave the tavern to join the rest.


	22. Change of Heart

"You want me to do **WHAT**?" Mithra spat over the war table.

"We need you to travel to Therinfal with an attache of Orlesian nobles and present yourself as "The Herald of Andraste." The Lord Seeker won't see you otherwise." Josephine explained officially.

"No. Fuck that! I will _not_ give that ridiculous name any merit," she growled as she eyed the council.

"You have many names, and you have no apparent problem with any of them. Why is this one any different?" Cassandra challenged with a sneer.

Mithra gave the seeker a menacing look. "Are you serious? Those are _ghost stories_. Folktales! I can simply disappear when I must with little trouble under those. This.._"title"_ is far too politically charged. I will be recognized wherever I go! Shit! It's already too late for that though, isn't it?! Remember Val Royeaux? Remember how those Chantry cunts called in the Templars they _thought_ were theirs to command? They would have tried to execute me right then and there if things hadn't gone the way they did! Besides, it's a bald-faced _lie_! All of my others, _including Fenjosi_, hold more truth than this "Herald" bullshit!" Mithra hammered her fist on the table and blew out a livid breath.

Solas peered at Cullen and was surprised to see that he looked relieved to hear her rejection of the plan. Maybe he wasn't as stupid as he looked. "Lethal'lan..you know better than anyone how these names take on a life of their own. Ir abelas, if I could-"

The door swung open rudely, and Dorian pranced through. With a smirk on his lips and his head held high, he announced his presence by simply being present. "Sorry to interrupt, but I'm here on business!" he proclaimed as a soldier stumbled along behind him.

Mithra turned to look at him, still hunched over the table with a scowl on her face. It shifted to amused as soon as she recognized him and held her arms aloft and smirked merrily. "Andaran atish'an, Dorian Pavus! Just in time to aid in the plan to stop Alexius and steal the mages. Welcome to the war council."

The soldier explained, "This man says he has information regarding the Magister and his methods, Commander."

Ignoring Cullen's uncertain glare, Dorian looked to his nails and grinned. "I do have impeccable timing...and taste. And I'm glad the value of my assistance is not overlooked! Being appreciated is _such_ a nice change of pace." The smile Dorian gave Mithra would have made any other woman swoon, she was sure.

The ranger grinned at his mannerisms and cockiness. "Yeah, yeah...share what you know so we can get this done."

They began their schemes. Alexius had sent his invitation a few days before, so they had a valid reason to enter the castle. Mithra and two others would engage in a false meeting to arrange assistance. Dorian, along with one other party member, would join a team of agents to sneak in through the secret passage and disable his defenses, making it possible to bring the Magister into custody and gain the mages for the Inquisition. The rest of the inner circle would be stationed outside the castle, ready to respond if necessary. The plan was set. They would leave tomorrow morning to carry out the mission.

* * *

Mithra and Dorian walked together to get better acquainted.

"I didn't realize Dalish women were such _saucy_ little minxes! Disappointed I didn't travel South sooner," Dorian joked with a grin.

"Well, we are _wild_ little things, ya know." She laughed.

Dorian's smirk grew. "Nonsense! I haven't seen you _bludgeon_ anyone yet! I'm sure you look fabulous when you do it, though."

Mithra laughed again. "You already missed all of _that_ fun! I bludgeoned the seeker and kicked the commander in the head my first day in Haven!"

Dorian's eyes shone with amusement. "Well! I hope I haven't missed _all_ the fun."

Solas approached abruptly, his eyes alive with heat and worry.

She turned back to the Tevinter mage. "Would you please excuse us?"

"See? You're not _wild_ at all! Such l_ovely_ manners." Dorian smirked playfully as he left the Chantry.

"Fenlin! What's wrong?" Mithra asked Solas worriedly.

"Can we speak a moment? Alone?"

"Of course, but why do you look so panicked? Is something happening?" She searched his eyes, looking for some clue to his distress.

"No, Lethal'lan. But I'm concerned something might."

He took her hand and led her through Haven, holding her close as she shrunk from the crowd.

* * *

Thank the Maker she changed her mind. If what Solas said was true then- Cullen's thoughts trailed off, a little pissed at himself for having encouraged her even to consider dying in Therinfal.

Oh, Maker...at least if she did get captured, the others would be right outside to rescue her. And Leliana's people were good; they wouldn't get far with her. He imagined she wouldn't let them take her, besides. She's tangled with slavers before; she knew how to handle them.

Cullen rubbed his forehead as a headache announced itself. He was not thrilled to fill Haven with Mages, however. He'd better start getting the men ready for their arrival. They would need to establish patrols to ensure there was no abuse of magic.

* * *

Solas and Mithra exited the gates of Haven. The apostate eased his hold on her now that the crowd was behind them.

She removed her hood and took a deep, relaxing breath when they were clear. "You think I'd be used to the crowd in this place by now. Is it just me, or does this place grow more crowded by the day?"

Solas lightened up and let a gentle laugh escape him. "It's not your imagination. More refugees and pilgrims flock to this place each day. I'm sorry to say that it is due to your...reputation."

Mithra groaned and rubbed her forehead. "Why couldn't I have the opposite effect? Don't they see my horrible luck? We should spread the word, so they clear out instead."

The mage laughed again, and she smiled at the sound of it. If she could stay..maybe.. She gave him a loving glance before she spotted Cullen as they headed for her cabin. He was a flurry of activity, reading reports, and issuing orders. It made Mithra a little nervous to see him working so hard. What was he up to? Was there an emergency?

The moment the door to Mithra's cabin was closed, Solas said, "Dhuleir."

Mithra froze at hearing the name. So that's what he was so worried about.

Josmael looked up from his place by the fire, apparently napping while she was in the meeting. He rose and stretched before greeting his asa'ma'sal happily.

She stroked the wolf's cheek in a daze, eyes wide and far away with memories.

"So, it's true." Solas watched her in her paralyzed state, waiting for her to deny it.

"I was...very different.. Young and foolish at that time," she whispered shamefully.

"I feared it was you. I wasn't certain for the longest time, but when you mentioned Elgadhal...I knew."

She nodded slowly, understanding why he was afraid now. If anyone found out, they might kill her.

"Why, Lethal'lan? Why were you so-?" He stopped, unable to find the words to describe the horrors he had read about.

She shook her head as her eyes began to shimmer, tears welling to blur her vision.

Josmael cuddled into her side and whined, looking at her with sad eyes. _"Don't cry.. You're going to make me cry."_

Mithra sniffed and blinked before the words choked their way out, "You said you've seen my tattoos. You're a...brilliant man, well-read. You're familiar with such iconography, I'm sure. You saw why."

He embraced her then and rubbed her back soothingly. "The incomplete one?"

She sniffed into his chest. "I'm sorry. I was young, angry...and scared. It doesn't excuse what I did. If I could undo it, I would.. But I can't. I can't undo any of it."

Solas seemed to put it all together then. "You were trying to protect yourself by scaring people away."

"I feared they would come for me so I- I did what I thought I had to in order to stay safe. But they kept coming. Hunting. Looking. I couldn't let them find me."

Solas pressed a kiss on top of her head. "I...understand. But the others cannot know. They are too connected to that...crisis."

She looked up at him, tears overwhelming her big, lavender eyes. "I know...that's another reason why I have to leave when this is finished. I can't stay here, but I..like these people. They've been kind despite everything... You, especially."

He looked deep into her eyes, afraid for her. He knew it was too late for her to escape this storm he had caused. Hope seemed to be all that kept Mithra going these past weeks, so he let her hang onto it. She would likely kill him if she ever found out anyway.

But if she left, she would be hunted by 'Him.' Solas wasn't certain if she would be able to escape his wrath, but she was clever and unyielding; she would make him work for it to the very end. And the Inquisition was growing. They might be able to handle the hidden enemy, but she was the reason the organization was growing at all.

Solas leaned in and kissed her. He didn't know what possessed him to do it, his fear for her, his guilt, or her current state of frailty. It was sweet at first — a soft thing intended to comfort. The second was firm and wanting. His hold tightened, and his fingers found themselves raking through the thick hair at the back of her head. Upon his third, his craving flared, and his kiss increased in hunger. He leaned over her, needing the sensation of her lips locked with his, her taste in his mouth. It had been so long. He found it difficult to keep his passion bridled, teetering on the cusp of undressing her and taking her then and there.

He broke the kiss at last and loosened his hold on her. He looked at her in dismay, feeling foolish for what he had just done. "I'm..so sorry.. We shouldn't-"

"Agreed," she said sternly through her drying eyes.

Solas looked a little hurt by her tone, but he knew he shouldn't do this.

His expression urged Mithra to explain, "I can't do this to you, Fenlin. I will be leaving, and I don't want to hurt you. It's best if we just..pretend this never happened and focus on closing the Breach. If I could..if I could stay, I-" She wiped at her cheeks and shook her head.

His face reflected understanding, the hurt from her original declaration fading. They couldn't be, but not for the reason she thought.

He released her and took a step back while donning his mask of indifference. "You are right. We must focus on our work. There is much to be done."


	23. Bargaining for Magic

She wiggled into her mail, donned her leathers, and buckled the straps of her armor. A flowing brown cloak spread across her slight shoulders, and Mithra's long, snowy braid was untucked from the layers. She shouldered her tried and true ironbark bow and daggers of white horn crossed at the small of her back. Hidden blades on her thighs were counted and sheathed, and an ironbark staff crossed the bow on her back.

Josmael was already prepared in his leather body armor. The pawed at the new helm that covered most of his handsome face.

"You don't need to match me, Isa'ma'sal," she taunted while tracing the long, thick scar on her cheek.

Josmael grumbled and gave her a flat look, but stopped trying to rub off the helm with his front paws.

"We ready?" she asked while double-checking her buckles.

He huffed a quiet bark and beat his tail upon the stone floor of their cabin. "Just waiting on you, Asa'ma'sal!"

Mithra gathered the riding gear and smiled at him. "Let's get going, then! Freedom awaits!"

* * *

Most of the party was waiting for Varric and Solas now. A team of agents stood nearby, going over a map of the castle Leliana had dug up somewhere.

"What in the world are you wearing?!" Dorian chastised as Mithra approached in her Dalish hunter's armor.

"If this appalls you, you should see what I used to wear. It was practically leather rags!" She smirked to herself; Solas and Cullen would kill to see her so exposed.

Dorian offered an unimpressed look.

Mithra rolled her eyes. "Ugh.. It's clearly armor. We aren't actually going for tea, you know."

Dorian crossed his arms and lolled his head. "Where's your sense of fashion?! You're an icon! You should be draped in dramatic colors, flowing robes, eye-catching designs!"

Mithra crossed her arms and cocked her hip. "It's designed for wide movement range and agility." She grinned. "Besides, we can't all look as fabulous as you, Dorian."

The mage's brows arched as he smirked and caressed his chin. "True..few look as stunning as I."

The ranger's grin grew.

The dwarf and apostate finally joined them, buckled up and ready for battle.

"Good morning," Solas said evenly as he patted Sulara; his mask screwed on tight today.

Mithra shifted uncomfortably and looked away from him. "Good morning.. Hahren."

The apostate's eyes reflected a little pain, but his mask remained unchanged.

The Tevene mage sighed in exasperation as he eyed Solas' armor. "And this one dresses like a hobo? Is poor taste in clothing a southern elf thing? Peh!"

A short, amused huff escaped Mithra.

Cullen approached quickly; voice and stance full of authority. "You're ready?"

Mithra looked to him and explained, "Yes, we're leaving in a moment. Just going to go over the plan once more to ensure things go as well as they possibly can."

"Good. You must succeed so we can see the Breach closed. Maker speed your steps," he said as officially as he could manage. Cullen's eyes fell as he asked, "And...please...be careful."

Mithra's face hardened into determination and she saluted him with a fist over her heart. "We will prevail and return, Commander."

He smiled and shook his head, knowing, for once, that she was fucking with him.

* * *

The team assembled in the woods near Redcliffe the next day. They were still early and had plenty of time to make certain they were prepared for the worst.

Mithra had kept herself busy whittling during the entire journey. She had produced a pine bear, an oak wolf, and a rowan owl, all still needing the final polishing touches and details.

"I don't think I've ever seen anyone carve so fast," Blackwall poked with a laugh.

"I've been at it for a long time..and I do it often to keep myself from going completely insane. It's a short trip for me, ya know," she taunted back with a grin and a quick glance.

The warden just laughed and turned to join his team. He'd be one of those stationed in town in case there were slavers lying in wait. Sera, Josmael, and Bull would follow his lead while The Chargers were stationed around town to keep extra eyes and blades ready.

Varric and Dorian were already leaving with the Nightingale's agents to infiltrate the castle. That left Cassandra, Mithra, and Solas to attend the meeting and serve as a distraction.

* * *

Mithra and her team were greeted by a rather snooty-looking doorman when they entered the main hall of the lofty castle. He immediately protested the presence of her companions, saying that the invitation was "For Lady Mithra alone." To which the ranger declared that they were to help her in the negotiations. The man said nothing further, but his gaze suggested that he either recognized it as bullshit and didn't care or that he didn't get paid enough to argue with the woman.

Alexius was perched on his stolen throne, looking right at home in his usurped headquarters. He greeted the team with the same slime Mithra shuddered at when they first met as soon as they were announced.

Mithra tried to keep a neutral face and gave a polite nod in acknowledgment. Ugh, this guy... Why did she have a burning itch to beat him with a stick? She noticed Felix standing near his father, which comforted her a little, knowing he was on their side.

Alexius wasted no time getting to the negotiations, asking what they planned to offer in exchange for the use of the Mages.

The ranger smirked, feeling much more comfortable with no crowd pressing around them. "Actually, I was hoping to ask about these "Venatori" I hear so much about."

Alexius sneered and leaned forward in the throne. "Now, where could you have heard that name?"

Felix jumped into the conversation, "I told her."

The magister went on a tirade about raising Tevinter from the ashes under the guidance of "The Elder One." According to Alexius, the promise of curing Felix was all it took for him to sign up. Which, in Mithra's eyes, was a noble reason; but the means clearly didn't justify the ends.

The Venatori standing as guards fell suddenly and Dorian and Varric appeared. Both Felix and Dorian tried to talk Alexius out of serving the asshole he was sworn to.

Alexius would hear none of it. The whole situation escalated quickly as Alexius claimed that Mithra was a mistake. He explained that she had foiled The Elder One's plans when she "stole" the mark on her hand from him. He lifted a glowing amulet as he raved, green light radiating from it.

Dorian seemed to know what was going on and cast at his former mentor.

Alexius stumbled backward and raised a hand to his face as a strange black and green rift opened before the party.

A blinding, white light filled the chamber for a moment. When it finally faded, Dorian and the ranger were gone, not a trace of them remained.

Cassandra, Solas, and Varric stared in dismay where Mithra had just stood.

Solas' heart filled with rage and sorrow. She's was gone. Dead.

Alexius barked his orders, "Venatori! Attack! Seize them! Kill the rest!"

The party drew their weapons too late. Leliana's agents lay dead before they could make a move and found themselves surrounded.

The apostate glared ferociously at the magister as he threw down his staff. They would be rescued. Best not to die now.

A bell rang in alarm, and the distinct sounds of battle grew loud outside.

* * *

Leliana was speaking with the agent that delivered the word: Mithra and Dorian were dead, and those with them were imprisoned. Much of the squadron outside had perished in a battle with Venatori and the enslaved Rebel Mages.

Cullen went white as a sheet and leaned on the war table. He was completely despondent, still as a statue as his head reeled. He knew they shouldn't have sent her in there. They should have found another way.

According to the agent, Josmael had died valiantly, taking a killing blow for Blackwall and Sera. Only they had survived, now being tended to by Adan in the apothecary's office. And they were in no shape to aid anyone.

The commander's mournful voice broke the looming silence, "Put out a request to King Alistair Thierin and Arl Teagan of Redcliffe. The Inquisition Forces wish to join the Ferelden Army in taking Redcliffe Castle back from those...bastards."

"I will arrange a rescue mission for Cassandra, Varric, and Solas while we wait for them to marshal their forces. I will be accompanying my agents on this mission, and I will see this done." Leliana's eyes were fierce, and the murder in her voice said it all: she would have blood for the losses suffered at Redcliffe.

Josephine opened her mouth to protest, but she dutifully began writing the commander's request without a word.


	24. Within Redcliffe Castle

In a dim chamber composed of cold stone and doors made of iron bars, Mithra found herself standing in ankle-deep water facing two Venatori. Dorian was right beside her, as he had been before that weird rift opened.

Two soldiers screeched to a halt at the other end of the flooded chamber. One exclaimed, "Blood of The Elder One! Where'd they come from?!" They drew their weapons and rushed toward them.

Just as Mithra pulled the daggers from the small of her back, Dorian gently grabbed her arm. "Stand back, Dearest." The two of them jumped back onto solid stone and with a sizzle of electricity in his staff, Dorian jabbed it into the waters.

The two Venatori seized up and trembled violently until blood trickled from the base of their helmets.

Mithra smirked sideways at her companion. "Well, that was effective."

She rubbed her belly and eyed the great cluster of red lyrium sharing their room while Dorian kneeled to search one of the bodies. "Displacement? Interesting! It's probably not what Alexius intended. The rift must have moved us...to what? The closest confluence of arcane energy?" He fondled the key he'd found and handed it up to Mithra.

She plucked it from his fingers and moved toward the door. "The last thing I remember, we were in the castle hall."

As Mithra struggled with the jammed door, Dorian hypothesized, "Let's see. If we're still in the castle, it isn't.. Oh! Of course! It's not simply where - it's when!" He stabbed a finger into his other hand's palm. "Alexius used the amulet as a focus. It moved us through time!"

Mithra pressed against the iron bars and tried turning the key the other way. What the fuck was up with this door?! Was the lock rusted? "Did it move us forward in time or back? And how far?" She jerked the door open at last and looked back at Dorian. "In either case, that doesn't sound good."

With his thumb pointing upward, he swung his finger to point at her. "Those are excellent questions! And it sounds terrible, depending on when we are and what happened while we were away."

He walked toward her at last. "Let's look around, see where the rift took us. Then we can figure out how to get back...if we can. I don't even want to think about what this will do to the fabric of the world. We didn't "travel" through time so much as punch a hole through it and toss it into the privy," he explained with a swing of his hand. "But don't worry. I'm here. I'll protect you."

She grinned and shook her head. Protect her? This guy was cute through and through. "You have a plan to get us back, I hope."

As he moved through the doorway, he smirked at her and said, "I have some thoughts on that. They're lovely thoughts, like little jewels."

* * *

~Back in 9:41~

Cullen thrust his sword into the air. "FIRE!"

Trebuchets sent several boulders flying toward the massive steel gates of Redcliffe Castle. The lake crashed and churned as it swallowed sparse rubble and ammunition alike.

"RELOAD!" Cullen barked as he turned to engage a Venatori that charged his way.

Sparks flew as he blocked a cleaving swing with his shield. His enemy fell limp when Cullen skewered him and kicked the corpse's chest to free his blade. Cullen turned to parry a cross-slash and slammed his shield into his enemy's cheekbone, sending the felon stumbling sideways into the dirt. With a quick stab, the Venatori curled, then sprawled into death's embrace.

With his sword aloft, King Alistair and his honor guard bellowed as they charged into the fray. They danced in the red dirt as they parried and blocked attacks from all sides. When arrows rained upon the battlefield, several guards cried out and collapsed at Alistair's feet.

With fletching protruding from his bloodied armor, King Alistair leaned heavily on his sword and took a knee. He spat a mouthful of blood and roared as he raised his shield to block another strike from a Venatori.

Cullen threw all of his rage into a rallying cry as he rushed toward him. He and Mahariel had saved him from the horrors of the Ferelden Circle during the Blight. His king didn't abandon him then. He wouldn't abandon him now.

Anguish lanced his heart as surely as the Venatori blade did the king's.

As Cullen stood over Alistair's warm corpse, three shields pummeled him from each side. He went down hard, dizzy from the blows. He laughed to himself as tears formed in his eyes. They didn't hit quite as hard as Mithra kicked... She was able to knock him out at least.

He felt himself being dragged away as he tried to stand. Cullen struggled to regain his feet and thrashed in their hold. Ropes encircled him tightly and he knew then that he had failed.

* * *

Mithra gaped at what was left of Fiona. The lyrium..it was growing out of her. Consuming her.

When Fiona looked to her and choked out, "You're...alive," Mithra jumped. "How? I saw you...disappear...into the rift."

Shocked that the Grand Enchanter still had lungs to speak with, Mithra swallowed her dismay and asked, "Is that red lyrium growing from your body? How? Why?"

Fiona pressed her forehead to the wall. "It's a disease. The longer you're near it..eventually...you become this. Then they mine your corpse for more."

Dorian cut in, "Can you tell us the date? It's very important."

"Harvestmere...nine: forty-two, Dragon."

"Nine: forty-two? Then we've missed an entire year!"

With wide eyes, Mithra looked to him. "We have to get out of here. Go back in time."

"Our only hope is to find the amulet Alexius used to send us here. If it still exists, I can use it to open a rift at the exact spot we left. Maybe."

"Good," Fiona croaked.

Dorian's brow furrowed. "I said maybe. It might also turn us into paste."

Mithra grabbed his wrist and started to leave. "We have to try."

Fiona called, "Your spymaster, Leliana..." When Mithra stopped and looked back, Fiona finished, "She is here. Find her. Quickly... Before the Elder One...learns you're here."

Once they were out of the cellblock and on their way up the stairs, Dorian mused, "If red lyrium is an infection... Maker! Why's it coming out of the walls?!"

"Are you sure you want to find out?"

* * *

Through the next door, a warped female voice chanted, "The light shall lead her safely through the paths of this world and into the next. For she who trusts in the Maker, fire is her water."

Mithra pushed the door open and found a very ill-looking seeker sitting in her cell. The ranger's brow pinched. Oh, Cassandra...

"Is someone there?"

Mithra's head whipped toward the cell the warped, echoing voice had come from. Her eyes stung with the threat of tears. It couldn't be.. Please, no.

Her breath hitched when Solas came to the bars and looked down the corridor. Her face warped with sorrow. Solas had a swirling aura of red and his eyes glowed with the poison in his body. He was infected. How long until Fiona's fate befell him? Was he in pain?

As Mithra stepped into the room, Solas' brow went up in unmasked surprise. "You're alive? We saw you die!"

Cassandra lifted herself from the floor. "You've returned to us! Can it be? Has Andraste given us another chance?" She shook her head. "Maker forgive me! I failed you. I failed everyone. The end truly must be upon us if the dead return to life."

Dorian approached Solas while fishing the key from his pocket. "The spell Alexius cast displaced us in time. We just got here, so to speak."

"Can you reverse the process? You could return and obviate the events of the last year." He stepped out of his cell the moment Dorian opened the door. "It may not be too late."

Cassandra clutched the bars before her. "Go back in time? Then...can you make it so that none of this ever took place?"

Dorian moved to unlock her cell. "If we can reverse the spell, then yes."

When the two stood beside her, Mithra finally squeaked, "You look awful." She looked Cassandra and Solas up and down slowly. This is what would happen if she failed to stop Alexius and his master.

Mithra's eyes sharpened as her face darkened and her blood began to boil. This would not come to pass. Not if she had anything to say about it.

* * *

The surprise on Varric's face when she approached was obvious. "Andraste's Sacred Knickers! You're alive! Where were you? How did you escape?"

Mithra shook her head and explained, "We didn't escape. Alexius sent us into the future."

Varric gave her a hard look and briefly gestured to her with both hands. "Everything that happens to you is weird!"

"You may be right about that."

The dwarf smirked. "I'm always right, and when I'm not, I lie about it. So, what are you doing here, or did you come back just to trade quips with me?"

Dorian rolled his eyes. "We get to Alexius, and I may just be able to send us back to our own time. Simple, really."

"You and I have very different definitions of the word "simple." You want to take on Alexius, I'm in. Let's go."

With the gravely-voiced dwarf in hand, they made their way to the upper levels of the castle. Fiona had mentioned Leliana was here somewhere, having failed in her attempted rescue of the three living party members roughly a year ago.

Varric seemed rather cheerful about their situation, despite everything. Mithra supposed he had spit and cussed enough over the last year and finally just accepted shit the way it was. Nothing could be done about it, and being pissed off wouldn't help matters. Staying mad wasn't the dwarf's style, she liked that about him; he was mellow and easygoing where she was quick-tempered.

* * *

They came to the mess hall after fighting a small squad of Venatori soldiers on patrol. The ranger dispatched them in a storm of daggers, hating to see her companions so corrupted. Her rage was growing at the thought, blaming herself for failing in the throne room a year ago.

Mithra picked a lock on a door to the right of the room and eased it open, not wishing to alert the voices she had heard within. A Venatori was standing at the back of the room, taunting someone and kicking them while laughing.

She slipped two of her throwing knives out of her hidden pockets on her thigh and threw them with one swift flick of her wrist. One bit deep into the base of her target's head as the other found a vertebra lower in his neck. He fell into a lifeless heap, revealing Cullen chained to a wall.

He looked far worse than her companions - a big angry shard of red lyrium protruded upward from his left shoulder while smaller ones poked through the flesh of his left cheek. His hair was thinning and patchy. His skin pale with the telltale hue of the lyrium beneath it.

The ranger gawked - not believing her eyes - and covered her mouth to suppress a horrified scream.

Cullen looked up a moment after his tormenter fell. "Who...? Leliana?" he guessed halfheartedly. The echo was stronger in him, Mithra could practically feel the vibration in it from where she sat.

She stood slowly and approached him tentatively, walking silently on bare feet.

His eyes lit up when he recognized her and gaped in disbelief. "It can't be! You're alive?! Oh, Maker! Please let it be true."

Mithra picked at her nails as she studied him. "I-I'm alive. Alexius sent Dorian and me a year into the future. If we find him, we can undo it and ensure that this never happens...we hope."

His face twisted with a snarl, "Then free me! I want to see that bastard burn for what he's wrought!"

Mithra's brows shot up in surprise. She had never seen him so alive, yet he was clearly dying. She rather liked the commander's newfound fire.

She rushed to the corpse she had made of the agent, fished in his pockets for the key, and freed Cullen immediately.

She wrapped an arm around him and helped him stand without a second thought. He may have been a Templar, but this was a crisis. She would undo this, and they needed all the help they could muster.

He gasped and groaned when he stood and leaned on Mithra for support, trying to gain his footing and summon the strength to stand on his own.

"Come on, I'll assist. We need to keep moving and find Leliana, she's here somewhere," Mithra said urgently.

Cullen let a small, breathless laugh escape him. "I never thought- I never imagined you would-"

"Now's not the time, Commander. We have a spymaster to locate and Venatori to kill. I'm thirsty for some blood, how about you?"

He steeled himself and tried his best to walk with his small elvhen supporter moving with him. "Parched."

* * *

As they moved up the hall, the ranger heard more voices. She could hear someone asking how she had known about the attack on the Temple - which she didn't if she remembered correctly.

Leliana snapped back at her interrogator and Mithra knew she had to move quickly before she was killed for her insolence.

She handed Cullen over to Cassandra, he was getting heavy anyway; and moved silently to the door. She tested it when she heard a sudden slap and a scream. Locked.

She picked it in no time, working as the jailor drilled the spymaster with another question.

Leliana was smart. She was pretending she had the answers so they didn't just kill her... Mithra was impressed. She knew Leliana was slick, but wow.

The door finally gave way, creaking open while he yelled another question in Leliana's face.

The ranger's throwing knife found its mark and he fell lifeless onto his table of torture implements.

"You're alive," Leliana whispered as she was freed.

The Left Hand looked terrible, but she wasn't infected like the others. It looked like they had been skinning her slowly over the past year. It was a gruesome sight, her skin was scarred, pale, and clammy; her eyes sunken, and her usually plush lips were all but gone. Mithra ached to think this was done because of her. "Yes. And I'm so sorry for failing you. Can you walk?"

Leliana nodded and was offered an old bow that had been found along the way.

"If we find Alexius, Dorian and I can return to our rightful time with his amulet," the ranger explained quickly.

The spymaster sneered. "Good. Let's move. We need to reach the Magister to ensure this doesn't happen...again."

* * *

By the time they reached the courtyard, the commander was on his own two feet, but he still had trouble with his footing in a fight. Mithra covered him as he fumbled with a few shades, ensuring he came away unscathed.

"You're stealing all my kills!" he growled.

"I'm keeping you alive so you can help kill the bastard that caused this. You're welcome, Grouchy Bear! And your footwork is atrocious," she jabbed back hotly.

Cullen pouted and grumbled something under his breath.

Mithra scrambled up some nearby scaffolding, wanting to see what this had done to the wilder areas.

Her breath caught at the sight of it. Everything was either dead or burning. The Breach seemed to devour the sky for as far as she could see. There was...nothing and that meant no creatures to call on for aid. It made her sick to think about. She was more determined now than ever to see the hole in the sky closed.

* * *

They ran into a time rift in the main hall of the castle with Venatori all around.

Mithra felt her fury come alive all at once. These people were as bad as Templars, if not worse, and she would kill them just as mercilessly.

She dashed into a small group of them and attacked before they had time to draw their blades. Blood painted the floor in spurts and arches as she slashed throats, bellies, and femoral arteries in a few practiced motions. Their armor was much easier to get through than templar plate, and she was glad for it, she wanted them dead as fast as possible.

Cullen was visibly surprised to see the bloodlust on her face and how swiftly she ended her enemies. He had never seen her like this, and he honestly kinda enjoyed the sight. He had been impressed with the display in Haven when she sparred with the seeker, but what he saw before him now was a killing machine. He couldn't help but recall Solas' warning about her not being as gentle as he thought. Now he knew the apostate wasn't joking in the least.

The rift popped as the last Venatori fell and it began to do its weird time-altering shit. Mithra found a sped-up section and let arrows scream across the room until all demons lay dead and she sealed the rift above.

They found a strange door that required keystones to open, so they went hunting throughout the castle.

Mithra killed every Venatori that crossed her path in a rage, often leaving her sickly companions far behind. She would kill them all for corrupting her friends, killing her isa'ma'sal, and for obliterating her home: the wild areas of the world. She thought she knew who to blame for the Breach, and couldn't wait to meet him as well.


	25. Escaping Redcliffe

Mithra wasn't in the mood to talk when the doors opened. She sent an arrow sailing for the magister's head as soon as she saw him.

Unfortunately, the bastard fade-stepped, stopping about ten feet away from where he had been.

The ranger shrieked, "You want to play?! Let's **play**!"

She loosed another and watched as he fade-stepped again.

There was his range... Time to die.

She loosed another arrow and immediately readied another, watching for where he would step to. She aimed when she had his heading and released as he was about to stop.

It sunk deep into his skull, and his eyes bulged with death and surprise, blood trickling out of his nose.

Mithra roared, "Fuck you! I win, asshole!"

He went still before he hit the marble floor, surely cracking his skull further upon his landing.

Dorian looked a bit heartbroken when he saw what Alexius had done to Felix. He mused that he wanted to die for his idiocy. The Elder One's promise to save Felix was not what it had seemed to be. He was alive, certainly, but he was a soulless husk of his former self.

While Solas reminded, "This Alexius was too far gone. The Alexius in your time might still be reasoned with," Mithra marched over to the corpse.

Dorian nodded."I suppose that's true."

With the amulet in Mithra's hands, she turned to find a mildly amused party and growled at their expressions, "What?"

Cullen grinned and shook his head. "You're adorable when you're mad."

She rolled her eyes. "And deadly, don't forget that, Commander," she reminded him and tossed the amulet to Dorian. "Do your thing, Peacock."

"Gladly!" Dorian cheered.

The sickly roar of a dragon echoed through the air outside, and the castle shook as it landed.

Leliana gaped in dismay. "The Elder One."

The ranger stomped toward the door. "Good! I'll gladly put a few arrows in his face as well!"

As he intercepted her, Cullen pleaded, "NO! You must return, so this doesn't happen! If you face him, you will die, and this will be!"

"You need to get back! It's suicide to face him here!" Varric scowled.

Mithra's face screwed up into a sneer. She wanted another fight, but she knew they were right. "Fine."

The infected party members and Leliana exchanged knowing glances and nodded. It made Mithra uneasy. She hoped she didn't read what she thought she did in their eyes.

Cassandra thundered, "We will hold them for as long as we can. You must return. Once we fall...Cullen and Leliana will be your last line of defense."

Mithra's eyes went wide. They were planning to kill themselves for her. "No...I can't..I can't watch you die!" She began to pant, trying not to lose her shit completely.

Cullen boldly wrapped the ranger in an embrace and pressed his lyrium free cheek to her hair in a silent goodbye.

She tensed for a second but suppressed her instincts to return the hug. She held him tight as she pleaded, "Please...don't do this. I can't-"

"It's alright. I got to...touch you without you jumping away or screaming. I can rest in peace now." He grinned sadly and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"I'll give you a hug the moment I get back. I promise, Da'iovro." She clenched her jaw, trying to suppress her tears.

He chuckled. "Translation?"

"Da'iovro... Little Bear." She sniffed after it rolled off her tongue.

Cullen let a small laugh escape as he released her. "I love it.. Much better than "Templar."

Solas claimed the next hug immediately. "Ir abelas, Fenor."

She rubbed her cheek into his chest. "No, I'm sorry, Fenlin. I failed the first time. I promise you: I won't again."

He pulled back and kissed her forehead with a smile on his lips. "I know you won't." His eyes glistened with unshed tears as he left her to join the seeker and dwarf in their defense of the chamber.

Varric called over his shoulder as he neared the door. "Kick his ass again for me, Starshine!"

Mithra tried to smirk, but her pain twisted it into something unrecognizable. "Gladly, Varric! I've been dying to beat that guy with a stick anyway!"

Cassandra laughed. "A stick? I hope it is a sturdy one."

The ranger forced a smile through her sorrow. "It's ironbark. Do you think it will hurt enough?"

The seeker laughed harder as she reached the door and disappeared through it.

* * *

The tension was thick. Everyone within was ready to fight. The battle was already going on outside.

Dorian had nearly worked out the spell. The amulet hovered in his magic, and it began to spark to life, shimmering the same green and black as it did in the throne room in their present.

Leliana readied her bow, having counted the death cries of those outside. She knew the enemy was about to breach the doors and that there were many of them.

Cullen steadied himself. He had regained his footing and balance earlier, he would surely be a challenge for the invaders now. He was chomping at the bit to make them bleed while reciting the Chant quietly to himself.

Mithra readied her bow as well, hoping to provide some cover fire and save herself the heartbreak of watching the two of them die in her defense. Dorian swore he would give her a signal to hold her fire when the time rift activated, so she didn't accidentally kill anyone on the other side.

The doors burst open, and a terror demon threw Solas's corpse onto the floor before it.

The ranger instantly felt sick. He had been completely mutilated, disemboweled, and was bleeding all over. His face bore three horrifyingly deep claw marks from the back of his head to his nose.

Tears filled her eyes as she took aim, howling obscenities in elvish. She fired, obliterating the one that had brought him in. She roared in a fierce rage at the mob of demons and Venatori as they entered the room, filling them with arrows as swiftly as she could.

Cullen roared and rushed forward, trying to keep them from advancing on Leliana too quickly. He bashed with his shield and sank his blade into two demons and three Venatori before he was run through by a soldier to his right. He gasped and cried out, but kept fighting. He took out the one that had stabbed him before another demon finished him off, slashing his face and throat with claws while he shield bashed another foe.

Leliana had let arrows sail at them the moment they opened the chamber door, praying as she fired. An arrow found her shoulder, stunning her momentarily, but she refused to fall. She fired with great fervor.

Once they closed in on her, she began beating them with the bow instead. One Venatori hunched over when she knocked him in the abdomen and rolled over his back to stab another in the neck. Her fight ended as she was held from behind while a terror demon viciously gutted her.

Dorian gave his signal, and Mithra lowered her bow before shouldering it. She was ready to meet Alexius again, her anger swelled into a maelstrom within her as she fondled her ironbark staff.

* * *

They were in the throne room in 9:41 Dragon once more.

Tears streamed down the ranger's cheeks as she all but murdered the magister with a piercing glare.

"** Run,**" she growled ferociously as she pulled the staff from her back and crouched.

The magister panicked and complied, fade-stepping, then sprinting for the door with all haste.

_ 6...5... _ She counted in her head, giving him a head start.

Dorian pleaded, "Please! Don't kill him again!"

_ 3.. _

"Why do you think I'm giving him a head start?" Mithra rumbled.

_ 1\. _ The enraged woman charged after him, racing with her staff at the ready behind her. She roared in a great storm of sound the whole way through the castle entry.

The others followed as fast as they could, hoping to take Alexius into custody alive rather than deliver him to Haven in a box.

The magister shrieked in terror as he exited the castle and staggered across the bridge, fade-stepping at intervals when he remembered he could.

She all but flew after him, sprinting so fast her legs were nearly a blur.

As soon as he entered the town, Mithra screamed and flung the staff at his legs. It twirled rapidly, making an almost musical whooshing sound as it sailed at his shins. When it twirled between his ankles, Alexius fell hard on his face.

He rolled and scurried backward, trying to resume his hopeless escape.

Mithra strutted toward the downed mage while panting and picked up her staff. "Get up," she snarled.

He rose slowly as the rest finally caught up to them; Fiona and Felix among Mithra's friends and Leliana's agents.

Everyone was breathless as they watched the magister stand timidly. No one made any further moves to stop the elf woman now that she was mostly calm again.

Mithra placed the staff behind her head and across her shoulders. She calmly perched her arms upon it and looked at him with a wide smirk while pacing like a relaxed jungle cat. She looked down and laughed lightly as her hand wrapped around one end.

The magister lowered his guard, thinking she wasn't going to knock the shit out of him after all.

Mithra's face suddenly went sour with a scowl, and she swung upward as hard as she could, knocking him on the underside of his chin.

Alexius lifted a few inches off the ground, sailed backward slightly, and fell on his back with a breathless "Humph." He was out cold.

The ranger spat on him and walked away as Inquisition agents approached to arrest him.

"There, Dorian. Now you've seen me bludgeon someone," she grumbled at the handsome mage.

Dorian could only gawk.

Bull cracked up at the scene, holding his belly as he roared in delight. "Boss...you-you're a _ badass _ little thing, you know that?"

Mithra grinned proudly and took a bow for her work. "Yes, I'm well aware. I radiate awesome at every turn."

Ferelden soldiers marched into the town then, lining the street.

The ranger's brow furrowed in confusion, and she shouldered her staff in case they thought her a threat.

King Alistair approached them then, chewing the Grand Enchanter's ass for kicking his uncle out of Redcliffe.

Fiona apologized profusely, but the King heard none of it. He demanded the Mages leave Redcliffe immediately.

The Grand Enchanter looked distressed. "We have _hundreds _who need protection! Where will we go?"

Mithra spoke up, "We _ did _ come here to get the Mages' aid with closing the Breach."

Fiona turned to the ranger. "What are the terms of this arrangement?"

Dorian couldn't help chiming in, "Certainly better than what Alexius gave you. The Inquisition _ is _ better than that, yes?"

The ranger grinned wickedly and announced, "As a big "fuck you" to the Chantry and Templars everywhere - I offer you a full alliance. Mages will be free citizens of Thedas in exchange for help with the Breach."

Cassandra glowered. "We will discuss this...later."

* * *

All gathered back in the woods, preparing to leave the Hinterlands for Haven.

Mithra couldn't look at Solas without coming to tears. The vision of him dead and mutilated slapped her in the face every time she even glanced in his direction. She kept her eyes buried in Josmael's neck if she could help it.

Cassandra approached to talk, and the ranger's delicate composure crumbled to dust. Her face contorted in sorrow, and her eyes flooded all at once. She threw her arms around the seeker and bawled into her shoulder. Gibbering nonsense poured from her lips in a jumble of heartbroken sound.

The seeker had never been so surprised and looked to everyone for answers with a blank stare.

Only Dorian came forward to address the situation. "Don't mind her. We witnessed-"

Mithra screamed through her tears, "Don't you say it! Do not discuss what we saw in my presence!" and buried her face back into the seeker.

Cassandra put her hands around her shoulders gently. "Go get some rest. You need it after..whatever happened."

She sniffed and choked, "I'll just..meet you back in Haven. I need some time alone."

She sniffed, snorted, and whimpered as she wandered toward Danyla. She kept her eyes glued on the ground, trying desperately not to look at Varric or Solas.

She cuddled the golden hart before hopping aboard and rode off slowly with Josmael jogging along beside them. She wasn't sure where she would go, but she couldn't be around anyone right now.


	26. Closing the Breach

Cullen wondered where she could be while watching the town gates, hoping to spot the dark antlers of the golden hart. She'd been missing for days.

Cullen had been disappointed to find everyone return without Mithra. He had panicked, expecting to hear the worst had happened. He found out not long after that she was fine, but had been sent into the future and experienced some horrific things. She was beside herself over the deaths she had witnessed; his own included.

The ranger had told Cassandra that she needed some alone time and would meet them back at Haven. None had any idea that "alone time" meant four or more days with no word.

Dorian had teased the commander during his report of the happenings in the future, saying that she would have a surprise for the commander when she arrived.

Cullen was less than pleased to hear of the alliance she had created with the Rebels, but his irritation was replaced with worry by her second day of absence.

Things were going well thus far, and the Mages had been eagerly preparing to address the Breach since they arrived. He supposed they were excited to be doing something so important, but it seemed most were just happy to help those that had declared themselves friends of the Mages.

"Has she returned?" Solas asked coolly upon approach.

Cullen sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Not yet. Leliana's agents and our soldiers have found no trace of her. I really hate it when she does this."

"As do I. But as I said, she is a creature of the wilds. She is alive and well, I'm confident of that. And her wolf is with her. He will die before he lets anything happen to her." It sounded like he was reassuring Cullen, but he figured he was saying it just as much for himself.

The apostate looked calm and collected as usual, but his eyes betrayed his worry.

He was quite embarrassed to hear how loving his future self had been toward her. He hoped she didn't expect him to be so open when she got back. She would probably just push him away even more, considering she had shut down the idea of a relationship more firmly than he had.

"Care for a game, Commander? I do believe I owe you a rematch," Solas asked with a faint grin.

"I would, thank you," Cullen replied pleasantly.

* * *

Mithra lay against Josmael as they rested in the shadow of a giant tree on a steep hill. She loved this place, the Frostback Basin. She was absorbing the view of the canopy from her high vantage point and carving while humming a song to herself, enjoying the quiet. She didn't want to venture into the basin, however. The rifts here held some of the strongest demons she had come across thus far, and she wasn't eager to engage without a lot of back-up.

The only creatures she could wrangle here were bogfishers, tuskets, giant spiders, and her usual array of birds. The birds were great for distractions and frightening foes, but they weren't much help in actual combat. Two were pretty much worthless to her, though she could probably squeeze a few pranks out of them. Bog fisher poo was very fragrant, after all. And the spiders.. Well, they wouldn't stand a chance against a Pride Demon.

The ranger had wandered to the edge of the territory to try to figure out gurguts. She watched them intently, but they didn't do much more than stand there quietly until dinner came by. So she didn't have them puzzled out all the way yet. Her sister hadn't let her when they came through on their way to the Free Marches.

Danyla had said, "They are too dangerous! Forget it!" So Mithra had let it go, there was no arguing with her sister. Mithra regretted it as soon as she had to save a hunter from two of the beasts as the clan moved through the area. The experience had been thrilling, but it had pissed her sister off to no end.

Josmael yawned with a whine then nudged her with his nose. _ "We'd better get back so we can be done and free, Asa'ma'sal." _

"Yeah...I know. I hope I'm ready to face them. The things I saw..it was like-" She sighed, unable to voice it.

He whined sadly as Mithra looked depressed and deep in thought.

She got up abruptly, looking determined. "Let's just..do this. I made promises. I should keep them. Let's go."

* * *

Day five of her absence arrived, and Cullen tried not to watch for her. _ She will be here when she gets here.. _ he kept telling himself.

He watched his recruits practice and corrected mistakes with shouts and growls. If that didn't do it, he'd pick someone to demonstrate the proper method, which always embarrassed his soldiers enough to make them pay attention and try harder.

The commander suddenly found himself face down in the snow with high pitched squeals and grumbles all around him. His eyes went wide when he realized what happened and who was responsible.

He sat up quickly and scratched the wolf. Josmael was wagging with as much vigor as he had his first day in Haven. "I'm pleased to see you too, Boy, but you've really gotta stop embarrassing me in front of my men," He scolded playfully.

He looked up to spot Mithra on the hart, but he didn't see them at all. His brow furrowed, and he called his lieutenant to supervise the exercise while he went to check on something.

* * *

Mithra was in her cabin, empty bags flung in the corner, stew on the fire, and baubles gathered on the tables. She was sorting through things, preparing to pack up for her departure in a day or two.

There was a polite knock at the door.

The ranger started at the sound and turned. She could only stare at it, too terrified to answer. She didn't want to break down again, and the sight of Cullen with his troops from a distance had almost done her in already.

Josmael howled lightly just outside, _ "Come on! You knew you'd have to do this!" _

Her face hardened, and she approached the door upon the second knock and opened it.

Just as she suspected, Cullen stood a few feet from her door, and she immediately began to tear up when she saw him.

"There you are! We were won-" His voice quit when she threw her arms around him.

Sobs wracked her as she buried her face in the fur of his coat.

Cullen was beyond shocked. He couldn't even imagine what to do. He turned the brightest shade of red he had ever accomplished and looked to the sky. What should he do? Oh, Maker, please help...

After what felt like an eternity of uncertainty, he placed his hands on her back and rubbed gently.

She squeezed tighter and turned her head. "I promised...I promised you a hug when I got back."

He sighed a laugh, finally coming out of his shock, and wrapped his arms around her snuggly now that he understood. "So this is what Dorian meant when he said you had a surprise for me."

Mithra laughed and sniffed. "Such a big mouth. Is that a Mage thing or a Tevinter thing, I wonder?"

The commander laughed, and she finally released him from the hug.

That adorably crooked grin of his graced his face. "It must be a Tevinter thing. Mages did little more than glare at me in the Circle."

She wiped her eyes and sniffed some more.

Cullen's face fell. "Was it really that bad?"

"Don't! Please." Mithra shook her head and looked down while rubbing her forehead. "Haven't you learned your lesson about asking questions you don't want the answer to?"

The fire hissed, demanding the ranger's attention. "Awe shit!" She rushed over to stir the stew and calm the boil. "Come in, if you like. Are you hungry? You look like you haven't eaten much lately. I know I haven't." She sighed and closed her eyes.

"I imagine you haven't. Have you even been able to sleep?" he asked gently.

She murmured, "Not really, no... It could be worse. Knowing that you and the others aren't actually dead or infected helps tremendously. I couldn't even look in Solas' direction when I got back to this time. I kept seeing him...as he was there."

"Dorian gave us the basic information, but left out descriptions of our...conditions," he admitted while shutting the door.

"Be very thankful for that. You all looked...extremely ill. It was difficult to see. I tried so hard not to cry when I saw Cassandra, Varric, and Solas and nearly screamed when I saw you. You looked..." She stopped herself while shaking her head. She couldn't voice the description; it would send her over the edge.

Cullen took a seat at the table and just watched her quietly.

Mithra shook out her hands and stood with her back to him. She fidgeted with the old leather jacket she was wearing and looked around, but her eyes avoided him at all cost.

"Smells good," he tried.

"Thank you. It's a..family recipe."

Cullen mentally kicked himself. He knew her family was a touchy subject too. "Where did you go?"

She brightened slightly. "The Frostback Basin. Have you ever been there?" she asked as she ladled stew into two bowls and sat opposite the commander. She slid his bowl before him and stared into her lunch as she waited for it to cool.

"Can't say that I have. That's Avaar territory, isn't it?" He asked, curiously.

"They are interesting people. I've traded with a few, but never entered one of their holds. I stayed high in the hills while I was there, just enjoying the sights. The scenery of that place is so...beautiful." She smiled at the thought.

Cullen seemed a little awed. "You really have seen and done a lot in your life, haven't you?"

She laughed. "Well, I've been homeless for most of my life. I wasn't tied to any place or people. I could go where I wished when I wished. And do what I wanted when I wanted. I was free, and I will be again soon." Her voice darkened, "But I have a hunter now... and I look forward to the look on his face when he realizes his prey is actually his end."

Her eyes grew stormy at the thought of the bastard that Alexius worked for. Everything was his fault: the Breach, the cult, the future she had witnessed. She would enjoy killing him when they crossed paths.

The commander pressed his hands upon the table and scowled. "This "Elder One" and his cult want you, and you're still going to leave?"

She lifted her face slightly, and flippantly said, "Of course. My hunter can come for me all he likes. He will be sorry he ever tried. But I won't let him hunt you as well. I can't watch you all die again. I'll...break. But if I leave, Haven and the Inquisition are safe. I have to go."

"You're mad! We can protect you. We _ will _ protect you."

She shook her head and snorted a laugh. "I've always protected myself. It's easy to find a large group of people, no matter where they try to hide. But finding just one person in the wilderness of the world? I've killed thousands of people on my own, Commander. All of my would-be hunters have failed. I'll kill him too."

* * *

The commander entered the war room with Mithra close behind, where everyone else was waiting. She kept her eyes to the floor, but it did little good. Her eyes dripped tears as soon as the door was opened for her.

Solas sounded relieved as he approached the ranger. "There you are! We've all been concerned, Lethal'lan."

She sniffed loudly upon hearing his voice. It was clear and full as it should be, but her heart was still broken over the grizzly scene in the false future.

She couldn't contain herself. She wrapped her arms around him and just held him in her arms as the tears came.

"The sight of everyone there really tore her up. Give her some time," Dorian suggested softly.

"I failed you... I failed you all.." She started to sob then and pressed her face into his chest. "I'm so sorry."

The apostate embraced her gently. "You've failed no one, Lethal'lan. You returned and prevented it from happening. You saved everyone from what you experienced."

She nodded silently, released Solas, and reached for Leliana as she moved toward her, silently begging for a hug with teary eyes.

The spymaster embraced her with some uncertainty, but she wasn't going to deny her in the state she was in. "Are you ready to face the Breach? The Mages have been waiting. They're eager to assist you." Leliana smiled while rubbing her back softly.

The ranger released her and looked at the light marring her hand. "Not just yet. I have a few things to do first."

* * *

The crowd gathered and laughed as Seggrit struggled to keep a swarm of nugs from making off with his goods again. They were everywhere, running around with helmets on their heads, boots sticking to their little nuggy butts, and silks wrapped around one that poked its head out of a crate.

Seggrit was very likely the least liked person in Haven. He was a greedy penny pincher that cared for coin more than anything. He frequently refused to donate anything to the healers, asking what they would offer in trade.

Mithra hated him simply because he was a racist. He always managed to use the term "knife ear" when she passed, not realizing that she was nearby. She had no reservations of having harmless beasties torment him, especially for a noble distraction.

The ranger entered the cabin she had woken in after she had attempted to close the Breach the first time while everyone was enjoying the show.

* * *

Everyone gathered in the ruins of the temple. Healers were on standby in case she found herself hurt again. The Mages stood upon the wall, ready to power up the ranger so she could seal the large rift and hopefully the Breach itself.

Cullen stood with a bunch of soldiers, ready in case another Pride Demon came through. Cassandra waited with Mithra and Solas, mentally preparing themselves to step into the crater once more.

The ranger heaved a sigh and dropped in, hopping easily off the wall, and approached the rift that had kicked her ass that first day.

To Mithra's horror, the rift popped and showed what had happened to her the last time she was there.

She stood next to a projection of herself attempting to seal it. Light flashed, signaling the moment the first layer of the rift closed and shot up to the Breach.

She watched in a daze as the reflection of herself went flying when it popped, skidding violently across the stone. Rolling, jostling and turning into a bloody mess before her eyes.

Everyone that had gathered gasped and shouted in alarm. Cullen went pale at the sight and began praying silently with every bit of will he had. He remembered quite well what she had looked like when he carried her to Haven on horseback. He didn't want to see her like that again, ever.

Once Mithra's shock wore off, she glared at the rift. "Are you **FUCKING** serious?! Dhava ma masa, you son of a bitch! I will see you **closed**!"

She paced while mumbling to herself, shaking out her hands, chewing her lips, panting, and growling. Her fury was growing, and it wasn't going to be pretty if it put her on her ass without knocking her out cold.

Her face was at full snarl, eyes boring into the rift that seemed to be taunting her. "Nuva uralas telsyl na i'ga syl nyel laimem!" she howled at it, panting as she finished.

She made an obscene hand gesture at the rift as she screamed, "Nuva Fen'harel pala masa sule'din!"

Solas couldn't keep his face straight with the last one. He leaned on his staff and laughed out loud, much to everyone's surprise.

"No, no... don't ask...I will _ not _...translate that one." His laughter carried on once he finished speaking.

Mithra was too pissed to enjoy his unexpected fit and seized the rift with the mark, imagining herself choking it to death in her magical grasp.

She roared as it pulled back, and she pushed harder. **"Na pala!" **

Solas regained himself at last and cued the Mages. They charged up and pushed their mana through Mithra, aiding her in the final big push to close it.

She screamed in pain and fury until it popped at last. The rift closed, slamming into the Breach above and dulling it. While another shockwave blasted dust from stone and knocked everyone onto their backs.

Mithra fell to one knee in exhaustion. She had shoved all of her rage into the effort of getting it done, leaving her feeling like she had just taken on an entire circle tower of Templars.

Cassandra regained her feet and started toward the elf on one knee. Cullen joined her in a moment, rushing to make sure Mithra was alright.

The ranger looked up when they neared and smiled weakly.


	27. Departure

The party was underway; people were drinking, dancing, singing, and just enjoying the merriment in general. The Breach was sealed, and everyone felt that the world was safe from certain destruction.

Cassandra approached a cloaked figure away from the party. Mithra always did prefer to stay out of a crowd.

"Solas confirms the heavens are scarred yet calm. The Breach is sealed. You did it," she praised.

Cassandra became uncomfortable with the silence after a long moment. "Are you alright?" The seeker put a hand on her shoulder to turn her around. She found her hand grasping something harder than flesh and bone. She pulled the cloak away to find two bits of wood, bound in a cross shape. A decoy.

As Mithra had instructed it to, a Snowy Owl landed upon the imposter. It grasped a bit of leather in its beak with Cassandra's name scrawled upon it.

The seeker looked worried instantly and took the message from the bird.

Cassandra,

You have been a fantastic friend and companion,  
but it is time for me to depart. I've stayed far too  
long, and home has been calling louder lately.

I'm sorry to leave like this, but I can't have anyone  
following me. I'm being hunted by "The Elder One,"  
and I won't endanger any of you by staying.

If he finds me, he will pay for what I saw in Redcliffe,  
the Conclave, and the Breach. If he doesn't, it'll be fun  
knowing he can't have what he seeks. I will kill him  
when I get bored with the game in either case. I'll send  
word when he's done.

Don't worry about me, I've been doing this all my life.  
The only difference is, I'll be closing rifts as I travel.

Go to the cabin I woke in, you know the one, you kicked  
in the door. Haha! I left gifts for everyone. Please ensure  
they reach the proper hands for me.

Keep your shield up, ma'falon (my friend),

Mithra aka Fenjosi  
Wild Elf"

Cassandra ran to the council members as soon as she finished reading it.

* * *

As they crept through Haven's gate, Mithra looked back, smiling at the sounds of the party behind them. They were happy and safe. Now she could enjoy her freedom once again. Her memories and secrets would be hers to keep, and she could finish that bit of business that had loomed over her for far too long.

She was sad to leave these people behind; they had all been caring, kind, and even fun, but she had to. She couldn't watch them die for her again. She couldn't be the reason for any of their hardships, and she brought it often upon those she grew too close with.

If she was alone, she could hide. If she could hide, she could kill and survive. This was how she had lived her life for many years now. It was all she really knew.

She pressed Danyla to quicken her pace once they were clear and veered off the road, headed east through the woods. She was beyond their reach now; the wilds were always on her side, and they would never find her.

* * *

"What do you mean she's gone?" Leliana rumbled.

Cassandra handed over the note the owl had delivered. "As I said, Leliana, the Herald has left. She plans to go back to her old life while closing rifts across Thedas. She seems to think that this "Elder One" will kill us if she stays. She hopes he will follow her for a hunt and leave us in peace."

"I can't believe she just left like this! It's madness!" Cullen growled when he reached the two women, upset that Mithra hadn't even said goodbye before leaving. He had planned to try to convince her to stay one more time, but now he had no chance to even attempt it.

"She's evaded the Inquisition twice now. Maybe she has a shot," Varric chimed in with a shrug.

Cassandra sighed. "In any case, she left gifts for everyone as a farewell. She instructed me to see them to the proper hands."

* * *

The ranger and her three animal companions reached the crest of a mountain crag. Her eyes went wide when she saw thousands of torch lights in the distance, heading straight for Haven.

Animals rushed toward her, fleeing the foreign army as they drew closer.

"Aneth ara! What's happening?" she asked a crow as it approached.

It perched on Danyla's dark antler and cawed a few times, giving Mithra a report of what it saw.

Her brows furrowed. "Templars? And red crystals?"

Then the realization hit her. Infected Templars.. A whole army of them.

* * *

They opened the cabin to find things scattered all around. Bits of leather with their names on them; a private message in each. All said pretty much the same thing as Cassandra's, explaining why she had to go and apologizing for the sudden disappearance. Each also held more personal messages of thanks and well-wishing.

Cullen's eyes went misty when he opened the box with his name carved upon it. A complete chess set, hand-carved in a Ferelden theme. The lighter pieces were of the things you'd expect to see in such a set, the darker were shaped like various animals. She had marked each at the top to indicate which they represented to avoid confusion and the ability to cheat.

He laughed when he read the note she had left within.

"Sorry we didn't get to play a match with it,  
but I just finished it today. I may visit sometime.

You owe me a rematch, besides. It's not fair to  
let me win, Commander. You have been a balm  
to my soul. Please try to have more fun and take  
care of yourself, Da'iovro."

Everyone else had their things in hand, admiring them for their craftsmanship and the thought she had put into making or selecting them. Others laughed at the little notes she had arranged with their gifts.

Solas was admiring a staff she had left for him. A beautiful piece of Whitewood, carved and polished with great care. It's shape held the gentle waves of its natural growth. The head of the staff was shaped to form a single antler, reminiscent of the ancient elvhen statues she had come across in her travels.

He smiled sadly when he read the note.

"A handsome staff for a handsome man.  
I hope you like it, and may it serve you well.

Thank you for all you have been to me, Fenlin.  
I will always remember the kiss."

All departed the cabin, holding their treasures with tears and smiles.

Sera drew the Dragonthorn bow that had been left for her. "Well, it's not too elfy," she moaned. She liked it, it was a good bow. Sera wished she could say thanks. Maybe share some pie with her, at least.

Leliana smiled when she found the Sylvanwood bow she had admired when Mithra first moved into the cabin. The note indicated that it was the same one, but the ranger had taken the time to engrave an Andrastian flame design all over it.

"To represent your faith and the fire in your heart," the message read.

* * *

Cullen entered his quarters to store the chess set in a safe place. He looked sad as he set it down. He wished she would have stayed. Would he ever see her again? She said she might visit sometime, but she was being hunted by that...whoever he is and that cult. He hoped she could handle it as well as she thought she could. Who knows how large their group was or how widespread they were? The inquisition could help her by taking out any Venatori they discovered. It was something.

His thoughts were interrupted by the harsh alarm of bells and soldiers shouting.

Cullen rushed out of his cabin. "Forces approaching! To arms!"

A runner raced toward him with a report.

Everyone gathered around the Commander as soon as he finished reading.

Cassandra inquired, "Cullen?!"

He pointed into the mountains. "One watch guard reporting! There's a massive force, the bulk over the mountain!"

"Under what banner?" Josephine asked.

"None."

She gaped. "None!?"

Everyone quickly ran to their quarters and strapped up for battle. They grabbed their weapons, buckled on greaves and plates, and gathered back at the gates as soon as they were ready.

The gate slammed with a hard knock. "I can't come in unless you open!" a worried voice shouted from beyond.

Cullen's brow furrowed. Who in the world? He moved to push the gate open to let their apparent ally inside.

The commander's stomach turned sour at the sight of a Templar with red crystals protruding from his flesh and growing between the plates of his armor. He was swollen and twisted, built like an old, gnarled oak. He radiated red; his veins pulsing with the poisoned lyrium in his blood while his eyes shone from beyond his visor. What had his brother's in the Order become?

Red lyrium... Oh, Maker. Have mercy on his soul..

The red templar marched toward the gates then lurched and stopped suddenly.

The vile creature fell to reveal a sickly boy of about twenty years. A large and rather ridiculous looking hat covering the top half of his face. His clothes were patchy and dirty. Cullen guessed him homeless as soon as he took in the sight of him.

The boy looked around frantically. "She isn't here! They've come for her! They'll kill everyone looking for her!"

"Who are you? What are you saying?" Cullen demanded hotly.

"I'm Cole. I've come to warn her, but she isn't here! The Red Templars have come to kill her. For that.." He turned and pointed to a distant peak. "The Elder One."

The commander squinted to see a red templar on the ridge. "I know that man...but this "Elder One?"

A tall, grotesque remnant of a man walked forward to stand beside the Templar on the mountain top. Red lyrium shot backward out of his head and plated his cheek, twisting his mouth into a distorted scowl. His body was skeletal and shrunken but stretched vertically. This was a true monster.

Cole tried to explain, "He's very mad that she took his Mages. He's come to hurt her. To kill her."

Cullen had enough of talking to this weird kid and turned to his soldiers while donning his lion-head helm, tilted back to reveal his face. "Mages! You have sanction to engage them! Inquisition, that is Samson! He will not make this easy! Fight!" He turned and pointed his sword at the approaching army. "For your lives! For all of us!"

He slid his helm down over his face, ready for battle.


End file.
